Kestrel Storm
by arthemys
Summary: Sequel to the story Consequences. Kestrel is a member of Fourth Echelon, but his ordeals are not at an end. Voron jumps in the game, and his past is catching up with him... While trying to bring down the last members of Meggido, Kestrel faces his old and new demons, helped by Sam Fisher and the Fourth Echelon team.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On a windy Friday morning, Kestrel was striding in the alley of the cemetary he knew so well. He had put on a thick duffel coat to protect himself against the falling snow flakes, not deterred by the freezing temperature. He had come back in the USA only the day before, and had slept fourteen hours out of sheer exhaustion. The last mission with Fourth Echelon had been a very difficult one, and had kept them two months in the Middle East. But now he was back, and the first thing he wanted to do after sleeping was visit the grave of the woman he still deeply loved. Even if she had been dead for nearly two years, his feelings were still strong. But the pain and grief had almost completely faded, and he felt a lot better. He had ceased to see his psychologist, not dived back into alcohol and done his new job inside Fourth Echelon well enough to gain everyone's trust.

Light-hearted, he was walking towards the grave when a shout stopped him in his tracks. Turning round, he saw the elder graveyard keeper running in his direction. He watched him coming close to him, panting, and asked politely:

_ Hi! Do you want to talk to me?

_ Indeed, the old man said, winded. I don't know how to say this, though.

He was grimacing, wringing his hands, looking haggard.

_ You see, I don't know your name, so I couldn't tell you...

_ Tell me what? Kestrel cut, dread twisting his guts.

_ I know you often come to see a particular grave, and I wish I could have warned you as soon as it happened...

_ Please, get to the point! Kestrel snapped, panic rising inwardly.

_ The grave has been vandalized four nights ago, the keeper said, fear and disgust in his voice. The body and coffin have been dug out and taken away.

_ What do you mean, away?

_ Stolen, he said, trembling. They disappeared. I'm sorry.

Kestrel's mind was numb from shock and disbelief. Alpha's body, stolen? Why? By whom? He tried to keep calm, but anger and panic were rising at alarming speed in him.

_ Didn't you notice the men doing it?

_ I was at my daughter's place, that night, the keeper stuttered, clearly afraid of Kestrel's loud voice. It was as if they knew I'd be away on that night. It was Christmas eve, you see.

Kestrel couldn't believe it. He had to see for himself. So he strode towards the tombstone, timidly followed by the old keeper. And soon he saw the yellow tape around the empty grave, the broken tombstone, and his guts filled with lead. Alpha had been the love of his life, and he had lost her in the intense fight against Meggido. And now, as if she being dead wasn't enough, some bloody bastards had stolen her body.

Rage and despair erupted in him, but he kept it inwardly. He inhaled deeply, then asked the old man:

_ Who's in charge of the investigation?

_ A FBI lieutenant, Blunt is his name.

_ Blunt, okay. Thank you for telling me.

_ I'm sorry, the old keeper repeated.

Kestrel turned his back on him and left, only one thing in mind: tell his team. Grim and Sam would help him. He had his smartphone in his pocket, but he couldn't call them, he didn't trust his nerves. He'd probably lose control and start wrecking the cemetary in his state. So he went to his new car, a blue pick-up he had chosen three months ago, and took the road to Grim and Sam's place, an hour's drive away. It was 8 am.

When the alarm clock woke him at 8.30, Sam was soundly sleeping, Grim on his shoulder. They had collapsed on the bed as soon as they had arrived, and only managed to kiss goodnight before the sandman passed above them. He groaned and slapped the clock, dimly wondering why the bloody thing had been set on. But then he remembered that Grim had wanted to go shopping in the morning, as the fridge and cupboards were mostly empty. She mumbled a little and turned her head, but stayed asleep on his shoulder. He watched her for long and blissful minutes, happiness and love in his heart. He was lucky having her at his side, and working with her in Fourth Echelon. Kestrel was living proof that he ought to enjoy life with her, as they never knew what could happen.

He gently pushed her away from him and started to rise, sitting on the edge of the bed. His head was spinning a little, but he knew it was from the jetlag and tension of the last mission. He had stressed much over it, even if it was a success. Kestrel was a really good ops, and Briggs had done well too. Only Charlie had been often distracted because of his date, and Grim had often had to tell him off. Shaking his head, he grabbed some cargo pants and a T-shirt, put them on and went downstairs to prepare a strong and hot coffee. He was halfway through the kitchen when he heard a loud and urgent knock on the door.

_ Who the hell is it? he wondered aloud.

The postman came around 7 am, and usually nobody else came there. Few people knew Grim and he had their home in the country around Baltimore, except the Fourth Echelon team. Grimacing and sensing trouble, he went to the wooden door and opened it. On the threshold stood Kestrel, looking devastated and furious.

_ Kestrel? Sam was astonished to see him, and in this state. What happened? Are you all right?

_ Can I come in?

_ Of course.

Sam sidestepped and Kestrel went in, taking off his snowy duffel coat. Sam closed the door and marched to the kitchen, followed by his ops. They took opposite chairs, and Kestrel collapsed on his, rubbing his face. Sam switched on the coffee machine and sat more calmly, but dreading the news. He had seen Kestrel lose control twice before, and was not eager to see that again. But the ops was really shaken, and it was not good news.

_ So, tell me, Sam said gently. What happened?

_ They took... they took...

Kestrel snapped, and he started to sob. Startled, Sam watched him apprehensively. Kestrel had mostly recovered from Alpha's death and was usually as calm and poker-faced as ever, but at that instant he was completely breaking down, just like when he had learned that Alpha had died in Fort Meade. Grim entered the kitchen at that moment, and looked astonished to see Kestrel weeping at their table, hands over his face.

_ Kestrel? she asked, looking concerned. What's the matter?

_ They took Alpha's body, he stammered between huge sobs. They stole her body and vandalized her grave.

_ What? she shouted, revolted. Who? When?

_ On Christmas eve, he said, breathing deeply and trying to regain composure. But I don't know who did it or why.

Sam felt a feeling of dread settle on his stomach, but also a blinding rage rise in his chest. Now he understood why Kestrel was in their kitchen and in his state. The poor guy had lost the woman he loved, and now her body had been stolen, the only thing he had to keep moving on. He said:

_ We'll find her, don't worry. Is there an investigation?

_ Yes, Kestrel nodded, wiping away his tears. A lieutenant Blunt from the FBI's in charge.

_ Okay, he said. Then I'll...

The phone in the kitchen rang at that moment, and Grim went to answer it. It was Fourth Echelon's line, and nothing good could come out of it.

_ Grim, the woman said.

She listened for a few seconds, then switched on the loudspeaker while sitting at the table and told Sam and Kestrel:

_ It's Briggs. He has bad news.

_ Already know them, Sam grumbled.

_ Hi, said Briggs. I have very bad news. Sarto's escaped from his prison in Texas last night. He disappeared, and the local agencies suspect he has been flown away from the US by some loyal Meggido lesser members.

Silence answered him. Sam was flabbergasted, and he felt anger rise in him to boiling point. He stood up and hurried down the hall to his working office equipped with a punch bag. He punched it repeatedly, not wanting to let the steam out on Grim's trinkets again. He saw Grim enter the room, Kestrel behind her, but he kept hitting the bag until he was breathing heavily. Then he turned to face them. Grim had tight features, but she looked determined. Kestrel was poker-faced again, but his eyes shone with a spark Sam recognized only too weel. Kestrel wanted blood, and so did he.

_ Right, he said, a harsh metallic edge in his rumbling voice. Grim, call the President. I'll call Briggs and Charlie. Meeting at the Paladin in three hours. We have a son of a bitch to track down and the body of a dear friend to find.

Grim and Kestrel nodded grimly. The hounding had begun.

* * *

Hi everyone! I just couldn't stop my previous story, so I decided to continue the writing, and it came naturally! Hope you enjoy it, and please tell me if it's worth continuing!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When Kestrel came aboard the Paladin, he was the master of his nerves again. He had guessed that Alpha's stolen body and Sarto's escape were tightly linked, and all he wanted was to find this fucking bastard and make him pay. Sam and Grim were already in the control room, and Sam shot him an inquiring look. Kestrel simply nodded at him, telling him he was all right, and Sam gave him a small smile before concentrating on the SMI again.

Kestrel came across the room and went to his cabin, where he put his bag. His bed had clean folded sheets on it, and he made it. On the far wall, a photo frame showed Alpha, smiling at him in civilian clothes. The photo was a Christmas present from the team, and he had had teary eyes when seeing it after unwrapping it. It was Grim who had shot a picture of the woman he loved a short time after Hawai, and offered it to him six months after her death. He cherished it dearly, and seeing her smiling at him, even on a photo, always gave him courage and joy.

He unpacked, putting his clothes in his locker, and sent a kiss to the Alpha on the photo, murmuring:

_ I'll find you, my love. Nobody has the right to disturb your peaceful sleep, and they'll have hell to pay for that, don't worry.

Then he exited his cabin and walked back to the control room, more focused than ever.

When he entered, Briggs was there. They shook hands, and Briggs said sadly:

_ I was sorry to hear what happened in the cemetary. We'll find her, mate.

_ Yes, I know.

Kestrel and Briggs had become true friends as well as brothers-in-arms, and often met in pubs around Baltimore and Washington when off duty. Kestrel liked a lot his fellow ops, even his attitude towards his partners irritated him. He had told him so, and Briggs had laughed, before saying seriously:

_ I just have good time with them, that's true. But I'm still waiting for true love. You were lucky to have it, mate. Even if Alpha's not around anymore, you still love her. I wish I knew so deep and sincere a feeling.

And that had ended the conversation, but Kestrel hadn't said a thing about his flirts anymore.

Sam raised from the SMI and cursed.

_ Where's Charlie? He's late, as usual, but I've had enough! This CIA woman is holding him too tightly.

_ What info do we have? Kestrel asked.

_ Sarto feigned an internal bleeding in order to be evacuated to the nearest hospital, Grim answered him. On the way, his prison van has been attacked by three hostile vans. The attackers opened fire on the truck. Only one guard out of five has survived.

_ Did he recognize some of his shooters? Kestrel asked.

_ No, Sam said darkly.

_ An unregistered private plane took off an hour later from Dallas to Nassau, Grim added. In short, he's at large and we have no idea where he is now.

_ But we can assume that he wants to have his revenge upon us, said Briggs.

_ And we'll use it to our profit, Sam said. We'll attract him where we want and take him into custody again, or kill him.

_ But what if he has other plans? Grim wondered aloud. Are the other members of Meggido secure?

_ Absolutely, Briggs said. They all are in isolated quarters, they won't escape.

_ What do you have in mind, Grim? Kestrel asked her, sensing she knew something more.

She pursed her lips, then said, looking anxiously at him:

_ Voron contacted Fourth Echelon.

Kestrel felt his jaws tighten and his fists clench. He forced down the insults that were threatening to come out, and said as calmly as possible:

_ And what do these motherfuckers want?

_ They want help. They have realized at last that some of their agents were doubling them with the Engineers, and they have some missing weapons that could damage a lot of ships if in the wrong hands.

Kestrel's hands started to shake, and the team, who knew him well by now, saw it, and knew it was a very dangerous sign. The last time it had happened, nine months ago, he had destroyed the table and all the chairs along with the china in the dining cabin in his furor.

_ Kestrel, Sam intervened, we haven't answered them yet. But these missing weapons...

_ It's twenty VA-111 torpedoes, Grim said.

Kestrel raised an eyebrow, disbelief etched on his face.

_ They lost twenty Chkval? My God!

_ What's so special about these torpedoes? Briggs asked. First, they can't be shot from any ship, I suppose, so what's the fuss about?

_ The Chkval is highly dangerous in itself, Kestrel told him grimly. Its fuel is based on peroxyde and is very unstable. The explosion of a Chkval is what probably sinked the submarine Kursk in the 2000's.

_ I see, Briggs nodded, looking more concerned. So that's bad news.

_ But how did Voron lose them?

_ They don't know, Grim said. At first, they suspected you.

_ What? Kestrel erupted in a sudden burst of rage.

_ But they soon realized that a lone man couldn't have done it, she hastily added. And I told them you've been with us during the last year, so you couldn't have done it in any way. The torpedoes were stolen last May, in a highly secure base in Vladivostok, where no guard was hurt or has raised the alarm. That's how Voron discovered the double agents inside their ranks. And they learned that the agents you and Alpha killed were traitors as well, so they cleared you. You're no longer wanted for treason in Russia.

Kestrel saw the team waiting apprehensively for his reaction, and some part of him felt ashamed to be feared so much. But right now his anger was so high he just didn't care, and he abruptly left the control room. He sprinted to the training room, where he and Sam had installed special punch bags, with sand and kevlar-reinforced leather. He hadn't succeeded in destroying those yet, and so he lashed out on them, and each one of the three bags was some Voron chief he wanted to kill.

When he was done hitting the bags, his knuckles were so bruised and bloody they hurt like mad. He headed toward the first-aid kit next to the locker and tried to open the door, but his raw fingers weren't responding. Cursing, he turned round and found Sam surveying him from the door frame, arms folded, eyebrows knitted.

_ Hitting the bags without protecting your knuckles is a very stupid thing to do, Sam commented.

_ Save it, Sam! Kestrel shouted. I know that! I _wanted_ to hurt myself!

_ That's why I'm telling you it's stupid, Sam scowled, heading to the first-aid kit and opening it.

He took some supplies and came to face Kestrel.

_ Hands, he ordered.

_ No need, spat Kestrel.

_ Hands! Sam ordered again, a dangerous gleam in his green eyes.

Kestrel silently defied him for a few seconds, then relented, offering his hands to his boss. He knew Sam's stubbornness, and didn't want to anger one of his very few friends. Sam nursed his hands, bandaging them without a word. Then he looked at Kestrel, locking eyes with him, and said seriously:

_ We do not want to be Voron's friends. What they did to you is a sufficient proof to us that they are just a bunch of assholes. But the matter of these missing torpedoes must be taken into account. I'm going to say to Voron to go fuck off, but if we happen to find their weapons, we'll give them back, point blank. And of course, you're a full member of Fourth Echelon, and an American citizen, so they'd better leave you alone for their own sake.

Kestrel sighed heavily, then nodded. Sam was a true friend of his, and an exceptional leader.

_ Thanks, he said. And I apologize.

_ Don't, Sam said kindly. We knew you wouldn't take well to hear from them in this way, but they are part of the game, even if I don't like it. We'll stay as far away as possible from them, but there's always a chance you'll meet an ex-comrade during this mission. But whatever happens, do not trust them.

_ Don't worry about it, he said darkly. I'll never trust them anymore.

_ Good, Sam said, the shadow of a smile on his lips. Now come, Briggs is fixing lunch.

_ I do hope he's preparing half-smoke sandwiches, Kestrel said, because cooking is not one of his many talents.

_ No, that's one of yours, Sam said, winking at him. Come on, let's see.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Briggs had indeed made half-smoke sandwiches, which was fine by Sam. But Charlie had not showed up yet, and Sam, having eaten his share, was drumming impatiently his fingers on the table. Kestrel, who happened to be starving, was wolfing down his fourth sandwich. Grim hadn't eaten much and looked preoccupied too, but Briggs enjoyed his second sandwich before bringing dessert: vanilla ice cream cones. Sam ate his ice cream, then absent-mindedly resumed his drumming, _his_ sign for rising anger. Grim noticed it, and said:

_ I've left him three messages, but no sign of him.

_ He's not home, said Briggs. I called, no answer.

Sam's exasperation was reaching breaking point. Wisely, Kestrel and Briggs did not comment, and Grim pursed her lips, biting back her statement. Suddenly, he fumed, slamming his hand on the table.

_ That's it! I'm gonna fire him!

Grim and Briggs jumped, but Kestrel, expecting something like that, didn't move. Grim said tentatively:

_ Sam, maybe we should...

Hurried footsteps in the corridor silenced her, and the door burst open. A disheveled Charlie entered the room and went straight to Sam.

_ I'm sorry I'm late, Sam! he gasped, but...

_ What is your excuse today, Charlie? growled Sam, shooting daggers at him. I told you last time...

_ I know, he stammered, but I have news about Alpha's body! That's what kept me away! I was at the CIA headquarters and couldn't answer you!

Sam saw Kestrel jump to his feet and ask, his voice shaking slightly:

_ What do you know?

_ The team who did it is specialized in vandalizing graves and stealing bodies, Charlie said while sitting and grabbing the only remaining sandwich. The FBI has been on their tracks for months, and the fingerprints they found match the ones they already had. This team comes from Mexico, that's why the CIA knows about them. They're linked to a drug cartel whose chief was Ricardo Garcia.

_ The man Alpha killed here, in Baltimore, Kestrel said, sitting down too. It all comes back to Meggido.

_ Looks like it, Charlie said. The CIA suspects that Leblanc, in his French prison, is the one pulling the strings, but it could be Sarto on his own.

_ But how did they find Alpha's grave? Kestrel demanded angrily. No one knows about it but us.

_ That's a good question, Sam said, and he glanced fugitively at Charlie. We'll have to answer it soon. In the meantime, we must decide where to start. But Charlie, a message on the OPSAT would have been welcome.

_ I'm sorry, Sam, I was...

_ With your CIA girlfriend Britney, I assumed so. But next time, you're really fired, and that's not a joke.

_ Okay, Charlie said, hanging his head.

_ All right, Grim chimed in, let's set to work. Sam, where do we start?

Sam saw all eyes fixing him. He was used to it now, but at first it had been quite unsettling. He was the commander, and they followed his orders. A huge responsibility was burdening his shoulders, but he liked it. And he shared some of it with Grim, who managed the technical and red-tape aspects of Fourth Echelon, while he was in charge of the ops and the final decisions. They had found a balance in their work, and he was grateful for that.

_ First, we need data to know where we must go. Charlie, you'll hack on the net and try to learn how Sarto could set his escape, and who are his accomplices. Briggs, find everything you can about these missing torpedoes and what are Voron's real intentions toward us. Kestrel, go and see lieutenant Blunt for the investigation on Alpha's body and find how this drug cartel learned about it and why they stole it. Grim, concentrate on Sarto's next move and where he could be now. As for me, I'll help all of you where I can and speed up the prep of the Paladin and the gear we'll need. Meeting at 7.30 pm in the control room, and if you're late, send a message.

Everybody nodded and rose. Sam told Briggs to go right away on his task, and cleared the table. It helped him focus, but also let the tension down. He was intent on this new mission, but part of him raged as his holidays with Grim were brutally interrupted. They had booked a week in Hawai, to get out of work and have some fresh air and sea, and he'll have to cancel. He knew this was part of the job, but for one time he had hoped to have two complete weeks of vacation without any emergency. And he had seen the faces of his team, they were all exhausted. They had barely come back from the Middle East, and here they were, a day later, starting a mission that would probably go on for months again.

He sighed, putting the china in the dishwasher, and left to the control room. He saw Grim, Charlie and Briggs, each bent on their computer, phone next to them or speaking to it. Kestrel had already left. He went to the console and phoned the Army captain who managed Fourth Echelon's supplies, and soon was supervising the loading in the cargo hold. He checked on the weapons, the ammo and suits, the food and medical supplies. He called back the medical crew and the analysts, trying to call as few people as possible. Then he went to the cockpit and told the pilots to be ready for a take-off in the evening.

When he re-entered the control room, it was already 5.30 pm. Feeling very tired, he went to fetch a coffee for the team. Grim took it with a grateful smile and said:

_ Thanks, I can use one.

_ Anything new?

_ Nothing, she said darkly. The track stops at Nassau, but I'm waiting for a call from a contact there.

Briggs grabbed his cup and said:

_ Bloody Russkies! They sure are motherfuckers, like Kestrel said. The guy who contacted us is a slimy piece of shit, and he weasels out of every question. But I'll corner him sooner or later.

Sam nodded, then brought Charlie his coffee. The young tech took it and thanked Sam, but stayed intent on his task. Sam didn't push him and went to the SMI, drinking his own coffee. He stared at the world's map displayed on the console, but his thoughts were wandering. Why now? Why Alpha's body? Why Voron's weapons? He was trying to see the pattern of their enemies' attacks, but for the moment nothing was coming.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Kestrel coming back to the console. And suddenly the truth hit Sam like a truck in a bridge: Kestrel was the pattern!

_ It's you! he exclaimed loudly. You are the link!

_ What? Kestrel froze in his tracks, looking at Sam with a puzzled expression.

Sam couldn't believe it, but Kestrel was their enemies' target. All was linked to him: Alpha's body, Voron, the drug cartel leader killed by Alpha, and Sarto, member of Meggido brought down by Kestrel among Fourth Echelon. Everything made sense, so that meant either Kestrel was a real threat in himself, or he knew something but was unaware of it. Sam hesitated to voice his thoughts, and something held him back. He trusted Kestrel completely, but had had some growing suspicions about Charlie talking to his girlfriend for months now. Som strange coincidences had happened, some enemies knowing exactly where to find them, some data missing, among other things. So he shook his head and said:

_ Nothing, I was thinking aloud. So, what did you find?

_ The gang who did it is named Mexican Freedom, Kestrel explained calmly, and was indeed commanded by Ricardo Garcia. Now his second-in-command filled his place, his name's Juan Esteban. Lieutenant Blunt told me this gang usually steals fresh bodies to take good organs, but in this case he hasn't got a clue since Alpha died a year and a half ago. He thinks Alpha's body is in Mexico, since some known members of the cartel have been sighted near the boundary with Mexico, driving a hearse.

_ Okay, Sam said. So we fly to Mexico. Which town?

_ Blunt couldn't tell me where this cartel had its headquarters.

_ Grim? Sam turned towards her.

_ On it, she said.

_ Sam, Charlie chimed up, I could...

_ Sarto, Charlie, he cut him abruptly. That's a priority.

Charlie looked as if he'd been slapped, but Sam ignored him. He was fed up with the geek and his girlfriend, and had to do something to know if the young man was the innocent leak inside Fourth Echelon. Grim and Kestrel raised an eyebrow at him, and he jerked his head a little on the right, a sign they knew meant "Something's fishy, tell you later". Grim bent on the SMI, searching, and Kestrel said:

_ One last thing from Blunt. He knows the van used to drive Alpha's body away is a grey Volkswagen.

_ That's good, said Sam. Once in town, we'll search for this car. Grim?

_ I'd bet on San Cristobal de las Casas, in the Chiapas state, she said. All evidence point to it.

_ Good, Sam said again. I'll tell the pilots. Take-off in an hour. Meeting's still at 7.30, and dinner afterwards. Kestrel, could you... ?

_ Sure, the ops smiled. Pierojkis for tonight.

_ Thanks. Back to work, everyone. I want results at 7.30.

* * *

Chapter 4 coming soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Kestrel went to the kitchen and started to cook. He hadn't made pierojkis for a long time, since Alpha's death, in fact. And cooking them again brought back good and less good memories. He concentrated on the good ones, and soon a faint smile was playing on his lips as he made the dough. He finished it as the pilot announced the take-off, and hastily secured his meal as the plane started gaining speed and height.

Once the Paladin reached his flying altitude, he stood up again and resumed his cooking. He even switched on the music on his smartphone, and listened to the titles he had asked Charlie to put in it months ago, but hadn't listened to yet. He thought about Alpha when hearing them, but the pain was almost gone, and he was smiling. He rejoiced at being able to think about her without guilt and grief, and being able to bring back memories without hurting too much. But when his smartphone played the slow dance _Say you, Say me_ , he started to tremble and shut his eyes tight, fighting his urge to toss the phone across the room. He forced himself to stay put, and replayed in his mind this wonderful dance with Alpha in a pub nearly two years ago. He breathed heavily, forcing down the sadness and longing, and kissed the Alpha in his memory. He missed her much, but she was dead and couldn't come back, he had accepted it. He just wanted to let her rest in peace, and wring the necks of the bastards who dug her body out of the grave.

The song ended, followed by a Russian title from his youth, and his thoughts wandered on Voron and their intentions. Nothing good could come out of their sudden interest in Fourth Echelon, and he was determined to avoid his former agency as much as possible. He finished the pierojkis and looked at his OPSAT to know the time. 7.15, he read. But a message was waiting to be read. Frowning slightly, he opened the small text. It read: "We need to talk in private. Meet me after dinner in the cargo hold. Sam."

He wondered why Sam had to send him a message via his OPSAT when he could have told him directly. But then he remembered that Sam had made his gesture with his head indicating that something wasn't right. So he pushed the matter in the back of his mind for the moment, and took out his apron full of flour, washed his hands and grabbed his smartphone. Then he headed back to the control room for the meeting.

At precisely half past seven, Sam called his team.

_ Meeting, everyone!

They all gathered around the console, and Sam saw with satisfaction that they were exhausted but focused on the job.

_ So, he said, let's take stock on what we know. Grim?

_ Sarto's probably in Venezuela, she answered. He has an old friend there, a Brasilian arms dealer named Paolo Dos Anjos. He's in the country near the boundary with Brasil, but he shifts location every week, so he's quite difficult to track. I was thinking about putting someone special on his tracks.

_ You don't think about... Briggs started.

_ Kobin, Sam said grimly.

Grim nodded, and she shot a nervous glance towards Kestrel, but the guy had his poker face on, and Sam still couldn't read his thoughts when he had this expression on. Kobin had been released a short time after Alpha's death in exchange of his entire cooperation with Fourth Echelon, and he had come back to Malta, resuming his arms dealing. Kestrel had not been happy about it, but right now he looked unconcerned. However Sam knew that behind the front the emotions could boil to so high a level that his ops would suddenly lose control and destroy whatever was in his path, as it had happened twice before.

_ Call him, Grim, Sam said at last, and make him tell us where we can find this Dos Anjos.

_ Roger that.

_ Charlie?

_ Sarto escaped thanks to an accomplice in the prison, Charlie said, a guard hired eight months ago. He passed him fake blood to spit out to feign the bleeding and of course knew the course of the van and told the attackers.

_ Who's this guy? Sam rumbled angrily, hating all traitors.

_ The one who survived, Charlie said with a grimace. He disappeared soon after being questioned by the FBI, and when they searched his past they found he had a fake identity and forged papers.

_ Wonderful, grumbled the commander. Now we know why he survived. Can you find his true identity, Charlie?

_ I think so, he said hesitantly, but it'll be hard work.

_ Then you'll start after dinner, Sam said. This man could be the key to know why Sarto has escaped. Why him and not Coudray, who was in the same prison?

_ Okay, Charlie said sullenly.

Sam watched him carefully, and Charlie regained composure under the imperious stare of his boss. But Sam saw that the young tech's mind was somewhere else, and he almost exploded with exasperation. Grim hastily put her hand on his arm, and he saw she had guessed his feelings. He exhaled slowly, shot her a grateful look and turned towards Briggs.

_ And what about Voron?

_ Basically, Briggs said with a disgusted look on his face, all they want is Kestrel's head. The missing torpedoes sure are a thorn in their asses, but what really matters for them is killing who they call "the traitor". And they hope that we'll accept a joint mission and deliver Kestrel to them on a plate.

_ You're sure about it? Charlie asked him. Because I've heard that all Voron wanted was finding the torpedoes and ask Kestrel a few questions.

_ Who told you that, Charlie? Kestrel suddenly demanded to him before Sam could ask.

_ Er... I...

_ I see, Kestrel said menacingly. Your girlfriend again. Isn't she a CIA analyst? How can she know about me and Voron? Only Fourth Echelon knows about my past as a Voron operative, even the CIA thinks I was a spetsnaz since they don't know anything about Voron.

He glared at Charlie, and Sam couldn't help being satisfied at the conversation's turn. Kestrel was asking now what he himself wanted to ask him later on the evening, but now was a good time. Charlie looked like a cornered animal, and was watching Kestrel's balled fists with great anxiety.

_ Look, Kestrel, I... I told her about you with Voron, but...

_ And what else did you tell her? Kestrel shouted, shaking with fury. You told her about Alpha and her grave too?

Charlie was trembling, but Sam did nothing to stop Kestrel. The guy's threatening attitude was working wonders on the young geek.

_ I... maybe I... I told her about it...

Kestrel's swing punched the computer screen behind Charlie's head, an inch from the young man's terrified face. Then Kestrel took Charlie by his neck and smashed him against the desk.

_ Kestrel! Grim shouted.

_ I trusted you! Kestrel yelled at Charlie, throttling him. And you told her all about me! Now Alpha's body has been fucking stolen! Voron fucking knows about me in Fourth Echelon! And it's all your bloody fault! I should kill you!

_ Kestrel! Sam intervened at last. Let him go, please.

Kestrel held on for a few more seconds, then let go. Charlie slumped on the floor, coughing and clutching his throat. Kestrel shot him a heinous glare then left the room, and Sam saw a murderous glance in his eyes.

_ Briggs, he turned to his other ops, can you... ?

_ On my way.

_ Do not approach him yet.

_ Don't worry, I know. We're persona non grata in the Washington's Hedgehog pub since he smashed the furniture to pieces with throwing on it some drunk son of a bitch who insulted him.

_ Okay, Sam said, not really surprised.

Briggs left, and Sam knelt in front of Charlie, who was breathing heavily, dismay on his face.

_ Are you all right?

_ No, the tech murmured. How could I be all right? I trusted her, and she betrayed me. And now I lost Kestrel's trust, along with yours, I assume. Kestrel's right, it's all my fault.

Charlie was in shock, and Sam took pity on him. He knew the young man could be very naive and straightforward, not seeing the danger or thinking that the people he met could mean evil. He put a hand on the tech's shoulder, and said gently:

_ You made a mistake. I told you long ago that what happened in Fourth Echelon must stay aboard the Paladin at all times. Now you know why. Some secrets must be kept for very good reasons. The damage you've done is huge, but you're gonna make it up for it. And the very first thing you're going to do is learn everything you can about your girlfriend, and why she told our enemies about Kestrel's whereabouts. I suppose you told her a lot about us too?

_ No, not really. In fact, she was mostly interested in Kestrel, but I didn't see it was suspect. She told me she worked on Russian special forces within the CIA.

Sam breathed deeply, then stood up and held out his hand to Charlie. He pulled the tech on his feet, and said:

_ Go to the infirmary and put some ice cubes on your throat. Grim will accompany you. I'll go and see Kestrel.

_ I won't be able to look at him in the eyes again, Charlie moaned, devastated.

_ Time will arrange that, but for now avoid angering him and concentrate on finding the data we need.

Charlie nodded and left, escorted by a disgruntled Grim. Sam braced himself, then headed toward the training room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kestrel had retreated in his cabin, not wanting to be disturbed. He was so mad at Charlie that he had a violent urge to wreck the place, but with a considerable effort he restrained himself. He looked at Alpha's photo, and her smile warmed his heart and helped him calm down. He sat on his bed, eyes still on the photo, and tried to empty his mind. What Charlie had done would have terrible consequences, but he needed to focus on what he could do now, and that meant cooling down to think. In his mind, a memory surfaced, Alpha giving him a sophrology course. At the time he had found it pretty stupid, but now he would give anything to have her teaching it to him again.

He lay down on his back on the floor next to his bed and closed his eyes. In his mind, Alpha's voice came clearly and it surprised him to remember her words so accurately. She had talked in Russian at the time, and he started to relax. In his memory, Alpha spoke in a very soft voice, very slowly, and told him to relax his feet, then his legs, and so on. He pictured himself in the hotel room in Hawai with her at his side, and his chest let out a huge sigh. He was slowly decompressing.

A soft knock on the door entered his mind, and he said in Russian:

_ Come in.

He heard two people come in next to him and said, still in Russian, like Alpha's voice:

_ Please wait five minutes. I'm doing sophrology with Alpha.

He concentrated again on Alpha's voice in his memory, and soon was completely relaxed. He allowed Alpha's image in his mind, smiling to him when they were in Hawai, and he smiled back to her. Then he slowly opened his eyes and realized he was really smiling. He turned his head and saw Sam and Briggs on each side of the door frame, looking at him in surprise. He said, back in English:

_ I'm feeling a lot better now.

_ That's good, Sam commented, and this time you didn't smash anything except the screen. Thanks.

Kestrel got to his feet and sat on his bed, massaging his neck.

_ Just a question, Briggs said. Why were you speaking in Russian?

_ Was I? I guess it's because the course Alpha had given me was in Russian.

_ Oh, right.

Kestrel saw that the two men were worrying about his sanity, and he smiled to them.

_ Don't worry, it was just a memory. Alpha had tried to prevent me from smashing too much things by teaching me sophrology, but at that time I just didn't care. But now I can see she had been right about my boiling temper. I just wish she was there to help me calm down.

He hung his head, thinking about her, and this time it hurt. He felt like he had a hole in his heart, a missing piece that could never be recovered or repaired. He missed her so much. And knowing that her body had been stolen...

He forced down the emotion, and breathed deeply. Charlie had created a huge catastrophe, and he was not certain to forgive him one day. But the young man was a colleague, a member of Fourth Echelon, and he was probably upset by now. And he had been betrayed by his girlfriend, a terrible ordeal. So Kestrel decided to give him a second chance, and stood up. He noticed Sam's stare, and told him calmly:

_ Charlie will have to apologize, and of course learn why this woman told him lies about Voron. Is she really working for the CIA? Is she a double agent?

Sam looked relieved, and he answered him.

_ He'll find out, don't worry. Thanks for not killing him.

_ Everybody deserves a second chance, Kestrel shrugged. Now, I'll go finish the meal. Dinner in ten minutes.

Just before closing the door of his cabin he shot a glance at Alpha's photo, and it seemed to him she was smiling more widely at him and at his decision.

In the infirmary, Grim was sitting next to Charlie, who had an ice bandage around his throat. Dr Collins, their doc, was telling him to keep it for the night to avoid the bruises as much as possible. Then she got up, and Charlie followed her, thanking the doc. She headed towards the control room again, and made the tech sit in a chair in front of her. She bent on the SMI and asked him dryly:

_ What's her name?

_ Britney Longwood, he said, eyes sunken and sad.

Grim, in spite of being moved by his remorse, concentrated on the anger she felt at the mess he had put them in, and typed the name. Soon the woman's case appeared on the console, and she quickly saw the problem.

_ The case does not mention anything prior to 2013, she said. It's a fake identity again.

Charlie, more devastated than ever, grimaced and hung his head. Grim saw the tears drop on his trousers, and she said kindly:

_ You had no reason to distrust her, Charlie. After all, she was in the CIA. How could she even enter the CIA?

_ I don't know, he said suddenly, raising his head and rage in his eyes, but I'll find out.

He jumped on his feet and went to his computer, typing frantically. She rejoiced at seeing him back in the race again, and searched for the link between this mysterious woman and Voron. They worked in silence for long minutes, then she heard Sam's footsteps behind her. He came at her side and gently put his hand around her waist, kissing her lightly on the neck.

_ What do you have? he asked.

She liked him a lot like that, when he was focused on the job but also caring about her. It helped her stand the infernal rythm of the missions.

_ Charlie's girlfriend used a fake identity to enter the CIA. She must have some high-ranked accomplice. I'm trying to find the link she has with Voron.

_ It's because she _is_ from Voron, Charlie burst out suddenly, anger in his voice.

He sent her file on the SMI, and got up to the console. The displayed case showed an ID card, some photos and mission reports, and a medical file. Briggs and Kestrel entered the control room at that moment, and Kestrel froze, disbelief and revulsion etched on his face. Grim saw him stop dead in his tracks, looking at the screen showing the images of the SMI.

_ Kestrel?

_ Nataliya Fedorova, he spat. You were dating that bitch?

_ You know her? Sam asked him in surprise.

_ Of course, Kestrel said with a heinous expression Grim had never seen on his usually calm features. She was the one who set the joint operation with Third Echelon to find the EMPs. She's the only female agent inside Voron, but she's not someone you can trust. She uses her body and sex-appeal to spy and learn things, but she's also very good with weapons. Most Voron ops went in her bed at some point, but thankfully not I. I've always found her too dangerous and evil. On the photo Charlie showed us, she had thick glasses and brown hair, but she is naturally blond, that's why I didn't recognize her sooner.

Grim was revolted, but the look of horror on Charlie's face concerned her. She told him:

_ Charlie, concentrate. It's over, now.

He looked lost and sick. Soon he clutched his stomach and hurriedly left, followed by a grimacing Briggs. She stared at Kestrel who came up to the console, and said:

_ Why would Voron infiltrate the CIA and take so many risks just to track you down? Wouldn't it be simpler to shoot you in a street? No offense meant. We're missing something.

_ They want something from me, Kestrel said grimly, otherwise I would be dead by now. But what? I can't see anything I know that's of vital importance.

_ Briggs told us they want your head, Sam said thoughtfully. Maybe that's not a figure of speech.

_ What? Grim shouted, disgusted.

_ Do you have some Voron subdermal implants? he asked Kestrel. Some hidden microchip?

_ Not that I'm aware of, the ops answered. But don't you think the medical team would have found it by now? When they put the Fourth Echelon implants in my ears a year ago, they would have seen something like that.

_ Not if it's hidden in your brain, Grim said. Some modern microchips can be undetected by a simple scan. If the doctors don't know where to look with a normal machine, they won't find it. You'd need a more precise one, and even then it's not easy to find.

_ But I don't understand, Kestrel said, shaking his head. Even if I have a hidden microchip under my skull, who put it there and what is there inside it?

_ It could be very sensitive information on Voron, or on Meggido, or on another completely different matter, she answered. But first, we need to check if you really have something in your head. And for that, we'll have to take you to a military hospital in the US. But for now, we'll be in Mexico. I'm afraid it'll have to wait.

_ In the meantime, Sam said darkly, you must avoid being captured or killed by Voron. So be extra-careful. We'll watch your back, as usual, but this agent Fedorova will be on your tracks now.

_ I'll mind my steps, Kestrel said calmly. I do not wish to be in the hands of my former employers again. And by the way, dinner's ready.

Grim couldn't suppress a smile. Except when he was angry, Kestrel usually was so calm it was like contemplating a frozen lake in Michigan. She said:

_ Let's go, then. I do not want to eat cold pierojkis.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 6 coming soon! Please write a review ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The pierojkis were excellent, as usual when Kestrel was cooking, Sam thought. They all ate in silence, and Briggs had joined them alone, telling them that Charlie had thrown up a lot and was now fast asleep on his bunk with a little help from a sleeping pill. Soon the dish was empty, and Sam looked at his team. They were deep in their own thoughts, but had tight features marked with turmoil and exhaustion. He himself was so tired his vision was slowly blurring, his back ached and his mind was so full of thoughts it was starting to spin. So he breathed deeply and announced:

_ Enough for today. We'll land in San Cristobal in the night, and tomorrow will be a new day. But we all can use some rest. See you in the morning, and no one in the control room before 8 am, right?

They all nodded, including Grim who he knew was a workaholic. Soon he got up, followed by Grim. Kestrel stayed behind to clear the table, and bade them goodnight. Briggs headed straight for his cabin, and Sam followed Grim in hers. There she was able to drop the professional manners and let her emotions show. So Sam wasn't surprised when she threw herself in his arms and felt her tears on his T-shirt. He knew she was devastated at the damage that had been done to Kestrel, and Alpha's body being dug out and stolen was very hard for her, and for him as well.

_ What are we gonna do, Sam? she murmured in anguish. How will we protect Kestrel against Voron? And what is Sarto going to do? And Alpha. My God, why did they do that? It's so horrible!

_ Shh, he said, kissing her softly and caressing her back. Later, my love. For now we're safe, and we'll start fighting tomorrow. But we're all exhausted and cannot think straight, we need some well-earned rest.

_ You're right, she sighed.

They stared at each other, and he saw her love in her beautiful brown eyes, but also worry. He kissed her again, and she kissed him back rather fiercely. They caressed their bodies, letting their emotions take control, and soon collapsed on her bed, making love.

When he awoke abruptly in the middle of the night, Sam was startled to find himself thinking about Alpha's body. Even in his sleep his restless mind had been mulling over the reasons to dig out a body since long dead, and he gasped when he realized what it could mean. He got up and hastily put on some clothes, then went to Grim's cabin, and found her asleep, like when he had left her after their lovemaking. But what he had to ask her could not wait, and even if it wrenched his heart to disturb her sleep, he sat next to her and gently shook her shoulder.

_ Grim, wake up.

She stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

_ Sam? she said with a puzzled, dazed voice. What's wrong? What time is it?

_ One in the morning. I'm sorry, but I must ask you something very important.

_ What?

_ The microchip Alpha had in her ear, do we still have it?

She frowned for a few seconds, probably wondering what he was talking about, and why he wanted to know that, then she raised her eyebrows.

_ I don't know. Sam, you think...

_ Yes, I think the drug cartel that dug out her body wants that chip for Sarto. A Meggido member put it in her ear, after all, just like Timochenko could have done with Kestrel. The chip was out of order, but its characteristics can tell us where it came from and maybe who tried to hide sensitive data in human guinea pigs. So it's top priority we recover Alpha's body and bring Kestrel to a hospital.

_ But surely they discovered that her chip was missing by now, she said, sitting up on her bed. They took her body four days ago.

_ Not necessarily, Sam said. If they headed straight to San Cristobal driving from Baltimore, it would have taken them two days, and that would have been without stopping at all. They possibly arrived two days ago, but more probably yesterday. So there's a slim chance they didn't cut her body to pieces yet. We can prevent that if we strike them at dawn.

_ But, Sam...

_ I know, there's very little time left. But I can't stand to know Alpha's body will be cut open and butchered for nothing. Kestrel won't be able to face it, and I won't forgive myself if we wait and arrive too late.

He saw the dismay on her face, but it soon disappeared, replaced by a fierce determination. He stood up and held out his hand for her.

_ Looks like we have work to do, she said grimly, grabbing her clothes. Go wake up the ops, but let Charlie sleep. He really needs some rest. I'll do the hacking.

_ Okay, he said, kissing her a last time before leaving.

Briggs was snoring softly on his bed, and Sam had to shake him pretty hard to make him emerge. But as soon as he knocked on Kestrel's door, the ops answered him.

_ Come in.

When Sam opened the door, he saw Kestrel reading a thick book, fully clothed on his bed.

_ Can't sleep?

_ No, Kestrel said. I've slept for a couple of hours, but it's been two hours since I'm awake. I've had... disturbing nightmares.

Sam could see the haunted look in his ops' eyes, and he wondered if he also was thinking about Alpha's body.

_ So, Sam, what's the matter? Why are you awake at 1.30 am?

_ I have a mission to set, he answered. Grim and I think that the drug cartel dug out Alpha's body in order to take the microchip she had in her ear.

_ What? Kestrel said aloud, anger in his voice.

_ Hush, Kestrel, Sam said, Charlie's sleeping.

_ Good for him, Kestrel snorted.

_ Anyway, if they came in San Cristobal driving, it might not be too late to strike them before they start butchering her body.

_ Okay, Kestrel said, dropping his book and getting up. Tell me what you want me to do.

_ Go to the control room, we'll plan the mission as soon as Briggs is outside his bed.

_ Right, Kestrel said.

Sam led the way, and they joined Grim around the console. Soon Briggs arrived, looking sleepy but intent on the job. Sam went to fetch some strong coffee for his team, and they concentrated on the mansion of Juan Esteban, that Grim had found in the outskirts of San Cristobal de las Casas. According to her data, the commander lived there with twenty men guarding his family and him. He had a cold-storage chamber, and that was highly relevant to Sam. He studied the plans with Kestrel while Briggs and Grim focused on the security system. And when the Paladin landed at the airport of San Cristobal, the mission was almost ready to launch.

Sam and his ops went to the cargo hold and chose the gear for the mission after the two men had put on their combat suits.

_ Nothing non-lethal for me, Kestrel told him darkly.

Without commenting, Sam handed him his Remington 887 Nitro-Mag Tactical, a powerful pump-action shotgun that Kestrel took only when he had something personal going on, his P4x Storm pistol, two wall mines and a handful of frag and smoke grenades. Kestrel loaded himself with his weapons as Sam handed Briggs his SC-IS pistol, his HK416, a stun gun and some smoke and gas grenades.

_ Ready, boys? Sam asked, a little wistfully.

_ Wanna come with us, boss? asked Briggs, who had noticed a spark of longing in Sam's eye.

_ No, thanks, he said, cursing himself for having let his guard down. I don't belong on the field anymore.

_ You could whip our butts with both hands tied in your back, Kestrel said calmly. Of course you belong. But then it would be Grim who would whip _your_ butt.

_ You're smart, Kestrel, Sam said with a half-smile, shooting him a grateful look. No, I'll stay on my comfortable chair in the control room with a mug of coffee while you two will be sweating and panting in the Mexican heat.

_ Good program, boss, said Briggs.

_ Indeed. Now let's go back to the control room and review the last details.

They crowded around the console a last time, and Grim told them:

_ I hacked into the security system, and I'll be able to deactivate the alarms on the garage door on your way out. The hearse is in there, but you'll have to find the keys. When you get out with the van, come straight here and drive the hearse in the cargo hold. We'll take off as soon as you're there, so make sure it's the good coffin.

_ Copy, said Briggs.

_ Try not to harm Esteban's family, Sam said, but he and his guards are hostiles and can be neutralized with every means at your disposal.

Briggs and Kestrel nodded in agreement.

_ I've found some heavily encrypted emails from Fedorova to Esteban, Grim said. And even if I'll have to wait for Charlie to decode them, I'm pretty sure they're up to no good. So be careful, maybe she'll be around with some fellow Voron ops.

_ If she crosses my path, Kestrel said calmly but with a murderous glare, I'll terminate her. She's a real threat and will show no mercy, so I'll just do the same.

_ Same for me, mate, Briggs told him.

Sam watched his ops with pride. Maybe they were tired and preoccupied, but at that moment they were focused on the job, an improvised mission to respond to an emergency. And he was happy to stay behind and watch their backs from the Paladin. He missed the field sometimes, but right now he knew his place was where he wanted to be, at Grim's side.

_ Okay, guys, he said. Go! Bring Alpha back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Grim had rented a van from the airport for the two ops, and they left for the mansion, Briggs behind the wheel. Kestrel watched absent-mindedly the illuminated streets and the leaves rustling in the trees. His mind was set on the mission, but also on Alpha, and that thought unsettled him. Usually he had a good concentration ability and was not easily distracted, but this time the goal was to retrieve the body of the woman he loved, and he still had trouble accepting it.

_ Kestrel, you there?

Briggs' voice jarred him out of his thoughts. He turned to his fellow ops.

_ Sorry. I have much on my mind.

_ I can see that. Are you okay?

Kestrel thought about it. He had to admit the truth to his friend, since any mistake on his part could get them both killed.

_ Not really. I'm distracted.

_ Good to know. I expected that, though. So I'll worry about the mission and Esteban, and you'll worry about finding Alpha's body. Let me guide you.

_ Okay, mate. Thanks.

Kestrel was grateful to have a partner like Briggs. The young man was calm and focused on the job on most cases, just like him. It was easy working with him and trusting him.

They left the lights of San Cristobal behind them and drove on a small road heading east. Two kilometers away, Briggs parked the car in a dirt path, and they walked the last mile to the mansion. The sun had not risen yet, and the air was chill, but Kestrel didn't feel uncomfortable. He was careful to walk at Briggs' pace, as he was much more faster than him, and soon the mansion loomed into view.

In fact, Kestrel thought, it was more a small palace than a mansion, with its five storeys and two European-like turrets flanking the aisles. But fortunately for them, the cold-storage chamber was in one of the small outbuildings. They reached a huge clump of dried weeds ten meters from the fence and crouched behind it.

_ We're there, Briggs murmured, transmitting with his subdermal implants to Fourth Echelon's control room.

_ Right, Sam's voice resonated in Kestrel's ear. I'll follow your progress with the satellite Grim hacked.

_ The satellite images show ten guards inside the mansion, Grim chimed in, so that's less targets for you. Esteban's emails reveal he's not there, but his day planner mentions that he should arrive in an hour, maybe for the opening of the coffin. So you have little less than an hour to find Alpha's body and clear out, unless you want to deal with reinforcements. Esteban's neutralization is not only not compulsory but unwise, since we still don't know where we're setting foot in all this mess.

_ Copy, Briggs answered.

_ Kestrel? Sam asked, obviously waiting for his answer.

_ Copy, Kestrel said calmly. Sorry, Sam.

_ Focus on the job, Kestrel, Sam said kindly. Everything's gonna be all right.

_ Copy, Kestrel repeated, with a hint of anger.

_ Let's go, boys, Sam said.

Briggs started to crawl towards the fence, and Kestrel followed him. Soon his partner had cut the wire, and they wriggled through the small hole. Kestrel checked his OPSAT, and Grim had done the job well as usual: tiny dots around them were revealing the guards' positions. Briggs indicated him the left-hand side of the buildings, and Kestrel nodded. They headed towards the cold-storage chamber, and met two guards. Silently Kestrel shot them down, and the ops hid the bodies behind the first outbuilding. Only three guards remained, and they were on the other side of the cluster of buildings, five hundred meters away.

Kestrel, eager to finish the mission, headed straight for the cold-storage chamber, followed by a more cautious Briggs. And when Kestrel advanced in front of the heavy door, Briggs held out his arm and grabbed his shoulder.

_ Wait, he murmured to his friend. There's an alarm, remember?

_ Oh, right.

Kestrel's face, hidden by his favourite hood, felt hot, and he was ashamed of himself. In his haste he almost blew up the mission. He gestured at Briggs and took a step back. Briggs nodded at him, and Kestrel knew he meant "Don't worry, no harm done".

_ Grim, we're in front of the door.

_ Right, I'm almost done with the hacking. Hang on a second...

They waited for a minute or so, then she said in Kestrel's ear:

_ Okay, that's good.

Kestrel braced himself, and Briggs opened the large door. They walked into the loading bay, and Kestrel immediately saw the hearse in front of him. Its boarding ramp was down, as if a coffin had been taken out not so long ago. Briggs opened the other side of the double doors, to be ready for a fast exit. Then they slowly walked around the vehicle, and Kestrel took out his Remington from its holster. He had a bad feeling about all this, and his uneasiness was increasingly growing as they approached the door of the refrigerated chamber. Without realizing it he stopped, listening carefully.

_ Kestrel, what's the matter? Briggs whispered.

_ I don't know, he hesitated, a bad hunch. I have this feeling of being watched... like it's a trap.

_ Kestrel, Sam said, maybe it's nothing. But when on the field, listen to your sixth sense, it can save your life. Both of you, be careful.

_ The coldness of the refrigerated chamber interferes with body heat signatures, Grim said apologetically. I'm sorry I can't help you.

Kestrel scanned his surroundings very slowly, searching for anything out of the ordinary. But the loading bay was mostly empty, and nobody could hide in there. He focused on the thick door of the cold-storage chamber, and his uneasiness increased. Whatever was emitting bad vibes was in there, and he didn't know what to do. His mind told him to go in there and recover Alpha's body, but his instincts were yelling at him to run far away from this place.

_ Kestrel? Briggs murmured, shaking him out of his indecision. You're ready?

_ Yes. Just... Beware of what's inside.

_ All right. Let's go.

_ I'll go first, he said suddenly. Wait outside the cold room just a minute, in case...

_ Okay, mate, Briggs agreed. I trust your instincts.

Kestrel followed his fellow ops again, switching on the thermal vision on his goggles. But nothing showed, the signal could not penetrate the thick walls. He switched them off and went to the door. Briggs folded three fingers one at a time, and Kestrel shouldered his shotgun. Then Briggs opened the door, and Kestrel walked in the refrigerated chamber.

In fact, he thought immediately, it's a deep freeze cold room. Mist hung in the air, and he couldn't see the interior. So he switched on the night vision on his goggles, and this time he saw something in the back of the chamber: a coffin on a trolley. But he also noticed two bulky forms on either side of the coffin. Hesitantly he changed into thermal mode and his chest tightened with dread. Two people were in there, in thick protective clothes, and he saw a heat signature on the top of the coffin that could mean only one thing: explosives. One of the bulky forms rose, pointing a pistol at him, and he heard a voice he had not heard since a long time ago.

_ Good morning, Mikhail, said Nataliya Fedorova pleasantly in Russian, walking slowly towards him. You arrive just in time for breakfast. Now drop your gun or your girlfriend's body blows up.

The other agent rose and approached too, and Kestrel recognized one of his former colleagues at the scar on his left eye visible under the balaclava.

_ You remember Serguei Vikachev, I assume, Fedorova said, halting two meters away from him. After all, it was you who gave him that scar.

Kestrel's mind went on high speed. He couldn't do anything against the two Voron agents alone, not while they were threatening to make Alpha's coffin explode. But he had to know what they were doing there, and why. And Briggs had most certainly heard Fedorova's voice. As if on cue, he heard Sam's voice in his ear.

_ Kestrel, pretend you're alone. We're working on a plan. Surrender and try to make them talk.

_ I said drop your gun, Fedorova repeated more menacingly. Do you really want me to destroy that coffin?

Kestrel feigned to hesitate, then slowly lowered his arms and dropped his Remington.

_ That's good. Now raise your hands above your head, high.

He obeyed. Vikachev marched towards him, careful to stay out of Fedorova's firing range, then struck Kestrel in the stomach with his fist. Kestrel, having expected something like that, recoiled a little, but he stayed up and exhaled deeply. He saw Vikachev raise an eyebrow under his balaclava, and Fedorova said:

_ Well, it seems that Timochenko has succeeded with you. That's great. We'll bring you back to Russia and you'll be fully examined by an army of doctors. But first, we have some questions that cannot wait.

Vikachev took Kestrel's arms in a strong grip and handcuffed him. Then he drew out his pistol and pointed it against his head.

_ If you move an inch too fast, I won't hesitate a second, Mikhail.

Behind him, Fedorova was pushing the trolley and held a small device in her hand.

_ A remote control, she smiled at his stare. If you or any friend of yours dare to approach a little too closely.

She pushed the coffin next to Kestrel, and even if his face was a mask, his heart squeezed in anguish when he saw the engraved plaque he had chosen eighteen months ago, a brass plaque with the words: "Alpha, beloved sweetheart and outstanding agent, rest in peace".

_ Come, dear Mikhail, Fedorova said, smirking, let's have a nice stroll.

* * *

Chapter 8 coming soon! Thanks for your support!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Kestrel, aimed at and steered by Vikachev, exited the cold-storage chamber first, and saw that Briggs had disappeared. The ops was probably hidden somewhere around and watching them, waiting for an opening. And of course Grim and Sam would be able to follow him via the satellite's real time images. Yes, he was definitely not alone. Vikachev pushed him outside the outbuilding, peering around carefully with his red goggles. Kestrel realized that the two Voron agents were intruders in Esteban's domain, just like him, and that was a capital info. So Voron and Meggido were not working together, but what did Voron want from him? He would soon know, he thought grimly. Vikachev had a sinister reputation as a ruthless and cruel executioner.

They walked to a black van parked next to the gate, and Kestrel noticed that the two guards from the cartel had been shot dead and hidden in the sentry box. Esteban's security was terrible, he thought. Vikachev opened the back doors and roughly pushed him inside. Kestrel toppled over and fell on his left shoulder. It hurt, but not badly. Then Vikachev took out another small pistol, like a stun gun, and aimed at his thigh.

_ Sleep tight, he said nastily, and shot.

Kestrel felt a dart penetrate his skin, and immediately his vision blurred. His head spinned faster and faster, and he lost consciousness.

When he came round, he was tied to a steel chair in a vast room, dimly lit by high and dirty windows. A warehouse, probably, he thought, noticing crates and cardboard boxes scattered around him. Twenty meters away from him, Alpha's wooden coffin was back on the trolley, and this time he saw the bomb on its lid. It was not a powerful one, but it would be enough to blow the coffin and everything around in a five-meter range.

He became aware of his body, and the cold he felt. He was naked from the waist up, and had no boots or socks on. His combat suit had been removed from his upper body and was dangling on his legs. His boots and weapons lay next to a crate four meters away. Then he heard movement behind him, and soon Vikachev came into view. He had removed his balaclava, and his left eye was half-close under the thick scar.

_ Awake at last? he snarled, smiling cruelly. So we'll get started. Please excuse Nataliya, she'll join us later. She had something to do.

Kestrel set his mind. He was going to be tortured, he knew it, or Vikachev wouldn't be there. So he braced himself and decided not to let a word out. Whatever Voron wanted to know from him, they wouldn't. Kestrel had been trained hard not to show the pain and resist under physical pressure, and now it would pay off. Vikachev was watching him closely, and he sniggered.

_ Don't worry, Mikhail, I know I won't break you. You've always been too strong for that, and unfortunately I don't have unlimited leisure time to soften you up. But Nataliya told me an interesting thing about you. It looks like you were drunk when you killed Pachkov in Moscow two years ago, since he himself told Voron so before you struck him dead. Now you don't smell alcohol, but one can dive back and make a little talk, don't you think so?

Kestrel kept his poker face on, but inwardly he shuddered. Since that dreadful night he hadn't touched alcohol, and he was afraid to become addicted again. And worse, maybe alcohol _would_ make him talk. He watched Vikachev open a bottle of vodka, and the Voron agent put some powder in it. He smirked when he noticed Kestrel stare at him.

_ A little bit of pixie dust, he winked. It'll help you relax.

Drugs, Kestrel thought. Against some cocktail like that, there was very little he could do except concentrate and not let the drugs and alcohol take over his mind. He breathed deeply, and tried to bring back the memory of Alpha's sophrology. It came quickly, and he started to relax.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vikachev coming closer, and he braced himself, inhaling deeply. Then Vikachev gripped his chin and forced his mouth open. Kestrel tried to resist, but the Russian's grip was like steel. Soon he felt the first drops of vodka on his tongue, and he held his breath, not gulping down the liquid yet. He wasn't going to make it easy for his enemy. Vikachev poured a large shot, then forced his mouth shut and pinched his nose. The bloody bastard was no rookie when it came to torture, Kestrel had to admit. He held on for about two minutes, but when he couldn't hold his breath any longer he gulped down the alcohol. The vodka burned his throat, and he started to cough.

Vikachev, satisfied, let him go for a few seconds, then repeated the operation. Kestrel tried to resist as hard as he could, holding out his breath until his lungs screamed for air, but in the end he was forced to ingest the liquid. In about half an hour, he had been forced-fed the entire bottle, and that's when the alcohol and drugs started to kick in. His eyes became unfocused, he felt his head droop, but luckily his mind was still clear. Part of him knew that he could resist for a few minutes more, but in the end he would have to give in.

Vikachev took a chair, sat in front of him and lit a cigarette. He looked at Kestrel's face and smiled.

_ Now, you're going to answer my questions. First, how did you escape Pachkov?

_ Fuck you, Kestrel spat, but his voice came out thickly and rather feebly.

Vikachev suddenly put the burning tip of his cigarette against Kestrel's chest, and the ops clenched his teeth, not wanting to let out the yelp rising in his throat.

_ You're rather stubborn and hardcore, I'll admit that, Vikachev said. You're the very first one who's still resisting at this stage. But every man has its limits, and we'll soon find yours. So, next question. What did Timochenko put in your head?

_ Fuck you, Kestrel said rather indistinctly.

Vikachev burned him one more time, and still he resisted the pain. He thought about Alpha, all the pain she endured and her final sacrifice, and it comforted him. If she could withstand it, then he could.

_ You're going to answer me, Loskov, Vikachev rumbled, and Kestrel heard that he was starting to lose patience. We haven't got all day, so speak before I lose my temper.

Here's my chance, he thought dimly. The Voron agent was in a hurry, whereas himself had all the time he wanted, allowing Fourth Echelon to set a rescue mission. All he had to do was hold on tight and take his time. So he raised his head with a huge effort to look into Vikachev's eyes, and he said with a half-smirk, carefully articulating:

_ Fuck you.

The stunned look on his opponent's face was priceless, but his satisfaction was short. With a muffled growl, Vikachev jumped on his feet and started to punch him rapidly and heavily. Kestrel's face was soon a bloody mess, and he almost blacked out. But Vikachev stopped, and Kestrel heard him panting. The guy was trying to calm down, as he probably realized that if he knocked out his prey, he wouldn't have the answers he wanted.

The drugs in his blood were confusing Kestrel now, and he had to made a huge mental effort to stay focused on resisting. Alpha, part of him thought, concentrate on Alpha. Give up, the other part said in his blurred mind. The pain will cease, it's useless.

_ You son of a bitch, Vikachev was saying dangerously. You'll answer me. What did Timochenko put in your head?

Kestrel couldn't answer anymore. His head swam in a daze, and it hurt a lot where Vikachev had hit him. He felt blood raining on his cheeks and chest. All he wanted was to faint, and take his answers with him in the abyss. But suddenly he heard a deafening bang behind him, and he saw the blurred figure of Vikachev kneel in front of him. He felt himself rising and turning on the spot, throat squeezed by a strong arm. He heard Vikachev shout next to his ear.

_ Stop, or he's dead!

Kestrel couldn't see anymore, and he stumbled, but the vise grip held him up. He felt the barrel of a gun against his right temple, and the still fighting part of him raged to be so helpless.

_ Get back, Vikachev shouted again. I won't hesitate a second to kill him.

Only silence answered him. Kestrel felt the barrel leave his head and lean on his back, just behind his shoulder. Then he felt a violent pain in his chest while he jerked forward, and he realized Vikachev had shot him. But at that moment the agent's grip loosened, and soon he was free. His legs gave way under him, and he collapsed on the cemented floor. He dimly noticed his back getting wet from his own hot blood, but he murmured:

_ Alpha.

He heard hurried footsteps coming to him, and he heard Sam speak to him while lifting him, freeing his hands and making him lean on his right side.

_ Kestrel, my God! Hold on, you're gonna be all right. Just stay awake. Briggs!

Kestrel felt another pair of hands on his back, pressing a cloth against his wound, and he assumed it was Briggs. He murmured again:

_ Alpha!

_ She's just there, Sam said with a worried voice. But first we'll take care of you. Just stay awake, Kestrel. Grim, alert the medical crew, Kestrel's badly injured.

Briggs was strapping something around his chest, maybe a bandage. But at that moment, the ops yelled:

_ Look out!

And suddenly Kestrel felt a blast of pure force knocking him down on his back, making Sam and Briggs let go of him. His dizzy brain registered it as a bomb exploding, and the crushing pain and sorrow expanding in his heart made him lose consciousness at long last.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sam was lying on his back, the shock wave had thrown him off balance. He hadn't seen Fedorova at the door frame taking out the small remote control until it was too late. She had disappeared now, of course, and Vikachev was dead, Sam's bullet right between his eyes. Sam leaned on his elbow and looked towards Alpha's coffin, but only ashes and burned metal remained. His heart sank, but what mattered now was Kestrel. His ops had blacked out, and the amount of blood he had lost was important, but he was still alive. So Sam got up to his feet and helped Briggs on his.

_ All right?

_ Yeah, that bitch'll have to pay.

_ Yeah, but now we must hurry.

Sam helped Briggs lift Kestrel on his shoulders, recovered the ops' gear and covered them. When Briggs had told them that Kestrel had been captured by two Russian-speaking agents, Sam had not hesitated. He had put on his old suit, took his favourite weapons and kissed Grim a last time before Briggs picked him up at the airport. Then Grim had guided them to the warehouse, having followed the van and the hearse with her satellite. And now they were running to the van, but nobody was around. Fedorova had left who knew where to, and all Sam cared about was bringing Kestrel back to the Paladin before it was too late.

He opened the back doors of the van and helped Briggs settle Kestrel down. Then they sprinted to the front seats, and Briggs floored the accelerator. The sun was just rising in the horizon. The road was mostly deserted, and Briggs was swerving between the rare cars at top speed.

In ten minutes they reached the airport, and Briggs screetched to a halt at the base of the ramp. Grim, Charlie, Dr Collins and the medical crew were waiting for them. Sam hopped off the van, ran to the back door and wrenched it open. Briggs squeezed between the front seats, and together they lifted Kestrel out of the van and put him on the waiting stretcher. The wounded ops was very pale and his bloody and bruised head worried Sam sick.

The medical crew hurriedly carried Kestrel away aboard the plane, followed more slowly by Sam, Briggs, Grim and Charlie. The young tech was still looking devastated, but more rested. Sam patted him on the shoulder, and they all went to the control room.

Sam wanted to take off right away for the States, but they'd have to wait for Dr Collins' clearance. Still in his combat suit, he marched towards the console, and Grim, next to him, shot him an uneasy look.

_ What happened in the warehouse?

_ Kestrel was being tortured, he said grimly. When we entered, his torturer used him as a shield and ordered us to back away. I held my ground a few too many seconds, and the bloody bastard shot Kestrel in the back before trying to run. I shot him in the head, but the damage was done.

_ Then Fedorova came in, Briggs continued. When she saw us, she made Alpha's coffin explode before leaving.

A thick silence followed his statement. Sam was in shock, and around him the faces were sad and revolted. Grim was weeping silently. But what worried him was how Kestrel would react. The poor guy, if he made it, was going to suffer more than ever. Then his thoughts drifted to this Fedorova, and he swore to himself to track down that fucking bitch and let Kestrel make her pay.

_ How could she do that? Grim wondered aloud, tears still falling on her cheeks. How could she?

Sam went next to her and took her in his arms. Usually, she didn't like displaying their closeness in public, but this time she put her head on his shoulder and wept freely. Opposite him, Charlie looked on the verge of tears too, but he swallowed and went to sit in a corner, hands over his face. Briggs locked eyes with Sam, and the Splinter Cell saw what the young ops was thinking, they were having the same thought. How would they explain that to Kestrel?

Sam felt a huge anger rise in his chest, and he hugged Grim closer to him. He would avenge Alpha and take care of Kestrel for her. But most of all, he thought fiercely, Voron would taste some of Sam Fisher's wrath.

Grim let go of him, wiped her tears away, and he kissed her softly. Then he went in his cabin to put out the suit and take a shower. Even for an emergency, he had liked going on the field one more time, but he had felt it was not his playground anymore. His place was in the Paladin's control room with Grim, and that last rescue mission had clearly revealed it. But he wasn't bitter about it. On the contrary, he felt better, having found a balance in his life.

When he came back to the control room, he looked expectantly at Grim, and she shook her head.

_ No news. I'm worried, Sam. It's been an hour since you came back. I hope he's not...

_ No, he cut her firmly. Kestrel's strong, he'll make it.

_ But what if he loses the will to live? she asked darkly. Was he conscious when Alpha's coffin blew up?

_ Yes, Sam said, dread filling his guts. He blacked out right after that.

_ We already lost Alpha, she said with a quivering voice. I don't want to lose him too.

Briggs came back and seated himself in a chair next to Charlie. Sam saw him whisper something to the still prostrated tech, and Charlie nodded. And a few seconds later, Sam saw Dr Collins enter the control room with a masked face.

_ Doc? he asked immediately. How is he?

Everyone in the room turned toward the doctor who marched up to the console. Then he said:

_ He's alive, but he's not out of danger yet. The bullet missed his heart by an inch. We must take him to the nearest US military hospital right away.

_ El Paso, Sam said. Briggs...

_ On my way.

The ops headed straight to the cockpit. Sam turned back to the doc.

_ Will he survive?

_ That's a fifty-fifty, Dr Collins said seriously. He lost too much blood, and of course the drugs and alcohol have done a great damage. I feared he would be in an alcoholic coma, but fortunately he's just unconscious.

_ What? Grim exclaimed. This agent gave him alcohol and drugs?

_ Probably to make him talk, the doctor explained. The alcohol level in his blood revealed that he drank an entire bottle of a strong liquor, vodka by the smell of it. The drugs are a mix of GHB and antidepressant. This cocktail would knock out a bull.

Sam's lungs tightened with fury, anger and anguish. Voron would have to pay a very high price for that.

_ And that's not all, the doc continued with a grimace. His head is what concerns me most. He sustained a severe concussion, and there is a brain bleeding. Maybe it's not too serious, but one cannot be too cautious. That and his perforated lungs are why we must leave as soon as possible.

_ Take-off in fifteen minutes, panted Briggs, skidding to a halt in the control room. That's the best the pilots can make.

_ It should be all right, the doc said. The trip to El Paso is a short one. I'm gonna call a friend of mine there, a brain surgeon.

_ Thanks, doc, said Sam. And tell me if there's anything new, will you?

_ Certainly.

_ By the way, Grim added suddenly, please ask your friend to look for a microchip in Kestrel's head.

_ You mean... like the one Alpha had in her ear?

_ Yes, Sam said, shooting a grateful look at the woman he loved. It's almost certain he has something like that. We must know what and where it is, if it endangers Kestrel's life and if it can be removed safely.

_ I'll tell him.

_ And do you still have the one Alpha had? he asked hopefully.

_ Yes, I've kept it for some unknown reason. I have it in the infirmary. Do you want it now?

_ Please, said Sam.

_ Okay, I'll check on agent Kestrel first, then I'll bring it back here.

_ Thanks, doc. Can I see him?

_ Not for the moment, I'm sorry. I'll tell you when you'll be able to visit.

_ Okay, Sam said, a little disappointed.

Dr Collins left, and Grim, Briggs and Charlie rose and gathered around the console. It was as if they knew the hunt was open again, and they were eager to chase their prey.

_ So, what do we do, Sam? Grim asked him.

Sam considered their options. The team was not at its best, they all desperately needed rest. And Kestrel was seriously wounded, his life was at stake. Furthermore, they still didn't know the role their opponents played in this strange game. All in all, they needed time.

_ We'll take a few days off in El Paso, he said at last. We all need it, and Kestrel even more. During these days we'll work on this microchip mystery, and maybe things will be clearer after that. Before jumping into battle I'd like to know what game we're playing, who is facing us and what interactions there are between all the players.

His team nodded in agreement. But Charlie had a strange gleam in his eyes, a manic fire that Sam feared would consume his mind.

_ Charlie? Want to say something?

_ I'll be on Voron tracks, he said fiercely. I have a score to settle with them. I'll dig out their little secrets.

_ Okay, Sam nodded, relieved to see the young tech pulling himself together like that. But don't forget to have some rest.

Charlie nodded. At that moment, Dr Collins came back and handed Sam a small plastic box.

_ It's in there. I don't know if you'll be able to extract some data, but...

_ We'll give it a try, Grim said seriously. Thanks, doc.

_ My pleasure.

The doctor left again, and Sam opened the box. In it sat a microchip of about half an inch long and a quarter inch wide. He took it out and handed it to Grim.

_ Time for Charlie and you to show us your genius again.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 10 coming in a few days, ASAP. Please write a review to let me know what you think about this story!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Grim took the microchip and examined it carefully with Charlie. She could see it was damaged beyond repair, but maybe their brilliant tech could do something.

_ Charlie? she asked him. What do you see?

_ A day's work, he said seriously. It'll be tough, but I think I can access the data in there. I'll go straight to my workshop.

_ All right, she said, handing him the chip. Good luck.

_ I'm gonna need it, he said. But I'll leave this baby no other choice than talk to us.

He left, and she followed him with her eyes. She was confident he would succeed. She turned and saw Sam and Briggs looking at her. They wanted some info, too. The trip to El paso would take around three hours, so they had time to get started on the research.

_ Right, she said. Do we start, Sam?

_ Yes, he nodded. We need to sort things out. Ask ourselves the right questions, and there's an awful lot of these. First, what is inside Alpha's microchip? I hope Charlie will be able to answer that one. Second, has Kestrel got one too? And if so, does it contain the same or different data?

_ Third, Briggs chimed in, who decided to hide the chips, when and why?

_ Fourth, Grim added, why Voron is interested in these chips too? And how did they learn about them?

_ Fifth, Sam said, what is the link between Voron and Esteban? We need to read these emails.

_ Charlie has a lot of homework, Grim sighed.

_ Sixth, Briggs said, why did Sarto escape and what are his plans?

_ Seventh, said Grim, are Voron and Meggido working together or separately? And what are Voron's intentions towards us?

_ I'm getting a headache, Briggs grumbled.

_ Join the club, Sam sighed, rubbing his eyes.

_ The priority is to track down Sarto and collect the data in these microchips, Grim said. When we learn what all this mess is about, things will be clearer, at least I hope so.

_ Have you contacted Kobin? Briggs asked with a grimace.

_ Yes, he's in a plane heading to Caracas. He balked at the idea of finding Dos Anjos, but I left him no choice.

_ What did you tell him to decide him?

_ I told him Kestrel was volunteering to kill him if he refused to cooperate, she smirked. That was a powerful incentive.

_ I don't doubt it, Sam said, shaking his head and a faint smile on his lips. Poor Kobin.

_ Don't pity him, Sam, please, Briggs scowled. The son of a bitch is making money by selling guns.

_ Speaking of which, Sam rumbled angrily, we need to track down Fedorova and kill her.

_ That would mean an open war with Voron, Grim said darkly.

_ We've been at war with them since we rescued Kestrel from Koltsovo, Sam replied. Kestrel is a Fourth Echelon ops, and we'll back him up. I won't betray him like Voron did.

_ Let's discover first why they are after Kestrel, Grim said firmly. And why now? You rescued him three years ago, something like that. They have had time to kill him before, and it would have been even easier when he was still in Russia. What happened to have them on his tracks so suddenly?

_ I intend to ask Fedorova these questions, he said seriously.

Grim pursed her lips as the pilot warned the crew of the imminent take-off. They sat in buckled seats and waited to be airborne to resume their conversation.

_ One thing is bothering me, though, Sam said suddenly. This Voron guy was aiming at Kestrel's head, but he changed target and shot him in the back instead. Why? And he could've escaped by taking Kestrel hostage, but he blew it up by shooting his ticket for freedom. That doesn't make sense. A professional agent would never do such a stupid thing, and the guy had grey hair and a scar, he was no spring chicken.

_ I overheard what Fedorova said to Kestrel in the cold room, Briggs said. She told him in Russian that he should remember the guy, I didn't understand his name, since it was Kestrel who gave him the scar.

Grim was not surprised, but uneasiness crept in her dorsal spine. Could the key to all this trouble be in Kestrel's past? She doubted it, but nevertheless she would have to ask a few things to the ops. She caught Sam's stare, and she knew they were having the same thoughts.

_ I think maybe the time has come for Kestrel to tell us about his job in Voron, he said.

_ He won't take it well, Briggs objected. He'll think we don't trust him anymore.

_ No, I think he'll understand that some answers could be in his past. He's a smart guy, and I hope he'll react well.

_ Don't be surprised if he doesn't, Briggs shook his head. _I_ certainly won't ask him anything.

_ I'll do it, said Sam calmly. When he'll be out of danger, of course.

As if on cue, Dr Collins strode in the control room and addressed Sam.

_ Agent Kestrel's awake, he announced. But he's very weak, so if you want to see him it's now or never.

_ I'm right behind you, doc.

They hastily went to the infirmary, and Sam saw Kestrel lying on his back on the small bed, eyes half-closed and unfocused. His face and head were so bruised up and bandaged they looked like a rotten pumpkin with a beard covered in gauze. His neck was in a collar to prevent any sudden movement and protect his brain. His chest was heavily bandaged, and a catheter connected his elbow to some drip infusion. Sam sat next to him and said softly:

_ Kestrel? Can you hear me?

_ Sam, Kestrel murmured, his breathing jerky and difficult. Sorry... can't move... my head.

_ Don't worry. Are you okay?

_ No... Pain... in my head... and chest...

_ You've been shot, but you're gonna be all right. Just hold on, Kestrel, hold on.

_ Why?... Alpha... gone... forever...

_ Kestrel, Sam got up and leaned over him so his ops would see his face. I know, it's horrible, but we need you. You're not alone, Kestrel, we're here for you. And we need you. Please, do not give up.

_ Vikachev... is he... dead?

_ The guy who tortured you is dead. Vikachev, it's his name?

_ Yes... agent... of Voron... executioner...

_ What did he want from you?

_ Answers... drugged me... vodka down... my throat...

_ Kestrel, please concentrate, Sam urged him. I know it's hard, but I need your help.

He watched apprehensively his ops becoming weaker by the minute, and his vitals plummeting on the screen next to him.

_ What did Vikachev ask you?

_ Wanted... to know... what Timochenko... had put... in my head...

_ And what did you tell him?

_ Did not... say a thing... he was mad... punched me...

Kestrel's eyes rolled back in his head, and he lost consciousness. But his vitals stopped a few seconds later with a loud alarm from the machine. Sam felt dread rising in his chest as he was shoved aside by Dr Collins and two nurses.

_ Cardiac arrest, he's asystole, said Dr Collins seriously. Prepare the defibrillator and give me some epinephrine. Commander Fisher, please get out.

Sam didn't want to leave, but the infirmary was small and the medical crew needed space to save Kestrel. So he left, anguish in his heart. He went back to the control room and sat in a chair without a word. Grim asked him something, but he wasn't listening. His mind was still in the infirmary, urging his ops to cling to life and fight.

_ Sam, Grim said, kneeling in front of him and putting a hand on his knee. Is Kestrel all right?

_ He's in cardiac arrest, he said, his mind numb in shock.

_ Oh my God! Grim whispered, sitting hard on the floor at his feet.

_ No, no, no! Briggs shouted, rising from his chair and pacing the room. He can't die like that! He can't!

_ How much time until we land? Sam asked gloomily.

_ We're two hours and a half away, Grim answered him, worry in her voice and on her face. We must do something. We can't let him die!

_ You're right, Sam said suddenly, anger rising in him.

He jumped to his feet and ran back to the infirmary. He entered, oblivious to one of the nurses' protests, and went right next to Dr Collins who was still using the defibrillator on Kestrel's chest.

_ Kestrel! Sam shouted. You can't die now! We need you to avenge Alpha! She died to let you live! You can't die like that and betray her! If you die now, you'll die a coward! Fight, Kestrel! Breathe and fight!

Abruptly, Kestrel's chest heaved and he inhaled a deep breath. On the screen, his heart beeped again. Sam let out a huge sigh of relief, and went to touch the ops' shoulder lightly.

_ Thanks, Kestrel. Fight. Fight and live for her. We need you to avenge her.

Then he left the room and came back to the control room to reassure his team, forcing down the emotion threatening to overwhelm him.

* * *

Chapter 11 coming soon! Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When Sam entered the control room, Grim ran towards him and asked him abruptly:

_ Is he okay?

_ Yes, he's alive, Sam said, relieved. His heart started to beat again, and he was breathing when I left.

_ Thank goodness, Grim sighed.

She kissed him and hugged him, and he felt better. Briggs ran into the room and stopped next to him.

_ Kestrel?

_ He's okay, Sam repeated to him.

Briggs let out a huge sigh, then said:

_ He'll make it. He's strong and tough.

_ Did you call your friend? Grim asked him.

_ Yes, Briggs answered. He's on it.

Sam, puzzled, looked at his ops with a question on his lips, but Briggs anticipated it.

_ I called a CIA friend in San Cristobal. He'll try and retrieve Alpha's ashes and bring them back to the US as soon as possible.

_ Thanks a lot, Briggs, said Sam after a few seconds fighting his emotion.

_ Don't mention it. Kestrel will be relieved to have them, and me too.

_ So will I, said Grim.

Sam nodded and cleared his throat. He had to concentrate on the problems at hand and put his feelings in the back of his mind. He said:

_ Kestrel has had the time to tell me that his torturer was named Vikachev and was a Voron agent. And that he wanted to know what Timochenko had put in his head.

_ That confirms our suspicions, said Grim. Kestrel has indeed something in his head, probably a microchip like Alpha. We really need to retrieve it, if it's safe for him. And I'll start my research on this Vikachev right now.

She bent on her computer and tried to hack into Voron's servers, a thing she has not achieved yet. But if Charlie had done it, she could too. And after fifteen minutes of hard work and a high amount of cuss words, she said at last:

_ I'm in!

Sam looked at the SMI as she went next to it, standing beside him and Briggs, and saw the data appearing on the screen.

_ Serguei Vikachev, she announced. Voron operative, forty-five years old. Specialized in ruthless interrogation and intimidation. His record mentions he teamed up once with Kestrel seven years ago in Siberia and sustained an injury there, but nothing more.

_ Now we know what happened, Sam said seriously. If Kestrel hurt him, it wouldn't be in the file. But we must know why he wounded him.

_ Kestrel's not the type to maim and like it, Briggs said. If he injured a fellow ops and was not fired from Voron, it had to be for a very good reason.

Sam nodded, but uneasiness was growing inside him. They were treading on murky ground, in Kestrel's past, and that could be very dangerous indeed. How would his ops react when he'll be aware of Fourth Echelon searching his case, his former missions and ex-colleagues?

He shook his head, concentrating on the data in front of him. He bent on Vikachev's evaluation file, and read aloud, translating simultaneously:

_ Shooting excellent, weapons holding outstanding.

He raised his eyes and caught Briggs' stare.

_ It was no accident he didn't kill Kestrel, he ventured. That scoundrel knew what he was doing.

_ That means Voron knows we'll fly him to the closest military hospital, Briggs said darkly. We're being used.

_ Wait a minute, Grim said, looking at both of them. Are you saying that this Vikachev shot Kestrel but missed his heart on purpose? And that he knew you'd shoot him?

_ I see no other explanation, Sam said grimly, anger in his chest. Look at his case: he joined Voron at twenty-two. He was so much experienced it can't be another thing than a sacrifice. I think Voron expects us in El Paso.

_ Then we shouldn't go there!

_ We have no choice, Sam said darkly. Kestrel's life is at stake, we must land as soon as possible and take him to hospital. But we won't leave him alone. I'll go and see Dr Collins. He'll have to phone his colleague. Grim, find all you can on Kestrel's missions with Voron, and that one in Siberia in particular. Briggs, call the FBI in El Paso, tell them we'll need a few agents to protect Kestrel in the hospital.

Grim and Briggs nodded, and Sam left for the infirmary. He knocked on the door, and a nurse opened to him.

_ Yes? she asked gruffly, and Sam recognized the woman as the one he had shoved aside earlier.

_ Er... Sorry to disturb you, he said apologetically. I'm sorry for...

_ That's okay, she half-smiled, I understand. What can I do for you, Commander?

_ How's Kestrel?

_ He's stabilized, but he's still unconscious. You can't see him, I'm sorry.

_ In fact, I'd like to see Dr Collins. It's very important.

_ I'll tell him.

_ Thank you. I'll be in the control room.

He turned round and backed to the vast room, impressed as always by the big screens and the team working on the computers and the SMI. He went next to Grim and looked at what she had found.

_ Can you help me? she asked him. I found this mission report buried deep in Kestrel's file, but it's in Russian, and I'm not fluent enough to read it.

_ Russian is not my favourite language, he confessed, but let's see.

He began translating approximately.

_ Mission report of agent Kestrel in Irkutsk, Siberia, January 18th 2009. Agent Hawk and I fulfilled the goals of the mission without difficulty. We killed the three targets and retrieved the case from the main target. It contained data on the American NSA and a small branch called Third Echelon.

Sam stopped there and exchanged an anxious look with Grim. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest. Briggs had come back and was also listening. Digging up Kestrel's past was very risky for precisely that: before Fourth Echelon he had been with Voron, and maybe worked against American interests since he was Russian. Grim put her hand on his, which supported him over the SMI, and said softly:

_ He's with us now, remember. But before that, he obeyed orders from his country. We can't judge him.

He nodded, and continued.

_ According to the file, Third Echelon is the equivalent of Voron in the NSA. Its operatives are called Splinter Cells, and are all over the world. The director is named Tom Reed.

After consulting the file, we went back to the vehicle and drove to our hotel. The owner had left us our keys, and apparently told his daughter to wait for our return. When agent Hawk saw her, he lost all professional manners and started to flirt with her. I had to remind him our mission was to deliver the case and its file as soon as possible, but he insisted on spending the remaining hours of the night in the hotel. As he was my immediate superior, I couldn't disagree.

When we retired for the night, we were in separate bedrooms and the only ones in the hotel save the owner's daughter. An hour later, I was awoken by terrified screams from agent Hawk's bedroom, and went to investigate. When I entered the room, agent Hawk was lying on top of the owner's daughter and tearing her clothes apart. His intentions were perfectly clear: he was going to rape her.

Sam stopped again, and this time he had to breath deeply and fight the nausea rising in his throat. Next to him, Grim had her hand over her mouth, and Briggs was grimacing. Sam was only regretting to have shot the guy and given him a soft death rather than the torments he'd have earned. But he didn't know this at the time. He shuddered to think it could have happened to his own daughter Sarah, and made a mental note to call her when they had a moment. But this had to be carried on with, so he inhaled deeply and translated the last sentences.

_ I ran to him and made him fall from the bed and away from the girl. She gathered her clothes and ran out of the room. Agent Hawk then grabbed his combat knife and threw himself at me. I defended myself for a few minutes, and nothing I could say was calming him down. So I grabbed his hand holding the knife and attempted to disarm him. He struggled, and in a sudden movement the blade jerked out from his hand and onto his eye. The pain sobered him up, and we gathered our gear and left the hotel, heading for the nearest Voron hideout. There we nursed his wound, and luckily he didn't lost his eye. But agent Hawk does not trust me anymore, and neither do I. Our official report does not mention the real circumstances of his injury.

Written upon request of Supervisory Director Valentina Stepankova by agent Kestrel, Mikhail Andreyevitch Loskov.

Sam raised his head and stared at Vikachev's photo on the screen in front of him. The picture showed the man he had killed with maybe less grey hair, but he already had his scar across the eye. The man's stare was intimidating at best, a killer's stare. He had been a hunter, and this stupid death did not match the person they were learning about.

_ It doesn't make sense, he murmured.

_ A guy like him is not the suicidal type, Briggs agreed. And he probably wanted revenge on Kestrel, so why didn't he kill him when he had the chance?

_ And why Voron kept him within its ranks? Grim wondered, disgust on her face.

_ That happens too often, Briggs said sadly. As long as the ops is doing a good job, the hierarchy turns a rather blind eye on these "little incidents". It makes me feel sick, but unfortunately it's very common in all the special forces of the world.

_ Yuck.

At that moment, Dr Collins entered the room and went in front of Sam.

_ You wanted to see me, Commander?

_ Yes, doc. Thanks for coming. I need you to phone back your surgeon friend.

_ Why? Have you changed your mind about agent Kestrel's microchip?

_ Not at all, said Sam seriously. We are fairly certain he has indeed something like that in his head. No, what's bothering us is that the hospital crew is most certainly infiltrated by one or more Voron agents who want to obtain this microchip and won't hesitate to kill Kestrel.

* * *

Hi! This chapter is a little late, sorry for the waiting! Enjoy reading it, and please tell me what you think about this story!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Dr Collins locked eyes with Sam and said thoughtfully:

_ You really think that agent Kestrel won't be safe in the hospital?

_ Unfortunately I do, Sam said seriously. Voron has some powerful ops, like Kestrel was for them, and we know they want to kill him.

_ What do you want from me?

_ I want you to call your friend, and make him check the medical crew.

_ You can't be serious, Dr Collins said, shaking his head. The hospital counts hundreds of doctors, nurses, secretaries, etc... My friend is a surgeon, not a private investigator. He hasn't got the time. Besides, we'll arrive in about an hour and a half, and that's an impossible task.

Sam stared at him, considering the problem.

_ Okay, forget it, he said at last. But please tell your friend to be wary and only let a trusted medical crew around Kestrel. Some FBI agents will come to protect him, but one cannot be too cautious.

_ Right, I'll do it.

_ Thanks, doc. How's Kestrel?

_ Still unconscious, but he briefly awoke two minutes ago, and said: "Doc, tell Sam I'm not a coward".

Sam half-smiled and nodded, and the doctor left the room. He turned towards Grim.

_ Can you... ?

_ On it, she said, typing on her computer.

Sam and Briggs bent on the SMI, looking at the files she was sending them. Sam mostly concentrated on the photos, since he suspected Fedorova to deal with Kestrel personally. Briggs and him searched for an hour, and found nothing. Sam's temper was rising with anger and anxiety, as he knew the enemy was hiding in the files, waiting for their arrival. He didn't like being in the dark, in the weak position.

_ Dammit! he suddenly shouted, turning round and slamming his fist on the nearest empty desk. We're walking into a trap and we still don't know who'll be attacking Kestrel!

Briggs looked at him with a sad expression, but Grim's eyes didn't leave her screen. She was typing very fast on her keyboard, and soon a face recognition program was launched on the SMI. She stood up and went to the console.

_ I created a comparison between the medical crew's files and Voron ops' ones, so we'll see if there's a match. It shouldn't be too long, since Voron has only fifty ops.

_ Only? Briggs grimaced. That's fifty lethal threats on our heads.

Soon the SMI beeped and showed two Voron files matching the medical crew's ones. Sam studied them while the pilot announced their descending on El Paso.

_ Anton Beria, pretends he's a stretcher-bearer, and Kirill Malkine, a male nurse.

_ I'll phone the FBI supervisory agent, Briggs said, and he took out his smartphone and backed a few steps.

_ Sam? Grim said, worry on her face. What are you thinking about?

_ Nothing much, he lied.

_ Don't lie to me, she said, scowling. You're up to something, I just can see it. Are you going to escort Kestrel?

_ I was thinking about something like that, yes, he confessed, locking eyes with her.

He knew he was not a field ops anymore and was too old to do it, but in this matter Kestrel's life was at stake. Even if some FBI agents would be there, he wanted to be the one protecting his ops, and didn't trust anybody else save Briggs and himself. But he also knew Grim wouldn't approve. She thought it was time for him to move on, not be on the field anymore and stay safe with her. And he usually agreed with her, but not this time.

She pursed her lips tightly, her eyes darkening, but soon her features relaxed a little.

_ Okay, she said, on one condition.

He was so surprised he immediately agreed.

_ Whatever you want. What's the condition?

_ I want you and Briggs to wear a bullet-proof vest.

He held her imperious gaze for a few seconds and saw she would not back down on this matter. Then he turned his attention on Briggs, and the ops inclined his head in agreement.

_ Okay, we'll wear them.

Grim nodded, and the two men hastily left for the cargo hold, where they put on the vests underneath their clothes and armed themselves with their pistols. Ten minutes later, the Paladin touched down at El Paso, where an ambulance was waiting for them.

When the plane's ramp touched the ground, Sam saw Kestrel on a stretcher, hastily pushed out of the plane and into the ambulance, Dr Collins at his side. He and Briggs climbed next to them after Briggs checked the driver's face, and the ambulance shot out of the airport at top speed, sirens wailing loudly.

Seated next to Dr Collins, Sam stared at Kestrel. The ops was still very pale and had a difficult breathing, but at least he was alive and not bleeding anymore.

_ Sam? Grim's voice resonated in his ear. Beria and Malkine have fake pseudonyms. Beria will be John Goldman, and Malkine Ben Shelley.

_ Okay, thanks, Grim, he said calmly.

_ Be careful, she said simply.

_ I will.

Sam repeated aloud the names of the Voron agents for Dr Collins, and he nodded.

_ I'll look out for them, don't worry. I'll stay with agent Kestrel.

_ Do you have a gun? Briggs asked him.

_ Yes, he said, taking out a Five-seveN like Sam's one.

_ That's good, doc, Sam said. But if we can, I want them alive, at least one of them.

_ I understand.

The ambulance was speeding on the roads, and in less than twenty minutes they entered the military hospital. When the driver floored the brakes, Sam and Briggs opened the doors and hopped down. A small team was waiting for them and immediately took care of Kestrel. They all broke into a run in the long corridors and through countless double doors, and Sam and Briggs followed them. On the way, Dr Collins briefly introduced his friend, Dr Jakowicz, and told him that Sam and Briggs would stay with Kestrel at all times, them or FBI agents.

_ Even in the operating room?

_ No, but they'll be right outside. In surgery, I'll protect him.

Dr Jakowicz nodded in agreement, and in five minutes they reached the doors of the surgery unit. There Dr Collins paused and said to Sam and Briggs:

_ You can't go in there, but I'll take care of him. It'll be long, so take a seat and wait here.

He then disappeared through the thick doors, and Sam and Briggs settled themselves in the armchairs right opposite the door, in the middle of a long corridor. Sam spoke softly to Grim:

_ Grim, you there?

_ Right here, Sam.

_ Do you know where Beria and Malkine work in the hospital?

_ Goldman is supposed to be in the emergency unit, and Shelley in the cardiology unit. These two units are right next to the surgery unit. And according to the time clock, they both started to work three hours ago, so they're in your vicinity.

_ Okay, thanks. Is there a back door in the surgery unit?

_ Yes, it's an emergency exit, but three FBI agents are stationed there. Three more agents are currently searching for our Voron friends.

_ Copy.

And the waiting started. Sam and Briggs took turns to take a small nap, and stayed on alert. But Sam thought that Kestrel was safe for now, and that his opponents would wait to see if he really had a microchip in his head to act.

Four hours after the surgery started, a nurse exited the room and walked towards them. She said:

_ Dr Collins asked me to tell you that the patient is out of danger, but that he's got a fly in the head that can be removed, so they're going to do it straight away.

She had a puzzled expression on her face, but seemed to understand it was coded words for the strange men in front of her, Sam thought.

_ Thanks a lot, he said.

She turned round and re-entered the operation room. Sam turned towards Briggs and they both took out their guns.

_ Now the show will begin, Sam said grimly.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 13 coming soon!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Nothing happened for an hour or so, but when Grim contacted him Sam was so nervous he jumped a little on his armchair, startling Briggs who was standing up next to him.

_ Sam?

_ Jeez, Grim, he exhaled slowly, you gave me a start.

_ I don't believe it, she said. Are you losing your steel nerves?

_ Maybe, he admitted half-heartedly.

_ We'll talk about it later. We have a problem. Voron became aware of me in their server and they shut me out, but if they have a smart geek wizard, and I think they have, they know we know they know.

_ What? Briggs asked, puzzled, following the conversation.

_ In short, she said, they know you're waiting for them.

_ Then we must expect company soon, Sam rumbled, rising. Are you sure there is only two Voron agents in there?

_ No. I was trying to find data on the other Voron members when they cut my access. But I noticed something interesting: there are other women ops inside Voron now, so beware.

_ Roger that, Sam said. Can you tell the FBI team not to let anyone near Kestrel?

_ Already done. Your corridor and the surgery unit are out of bounds for everyone, medical staff included.

_ Thank you, honey.

He smiled while saying that and imagined Grim's face reddening in the control room. But at that moment, the power went out, darkening the windowless corridor. Sam, cursing, realized that their enemy was striking, and he hadn't got his goggles. But next to him he heard Briggs shuffle and take out something from a small backpack he had grabbed before leaving the Paladin.

_ Here, Sam! he murmured. Your goggles.

_ Thanks, Briggs, he said gratefully. Expected something like that?

_ Just a hunch, the ops said. Wisely I listened to the tiny voice in my head.

Sam extended his hand and Briggs, obviously goggles with night vision on already, put his pair in it. Swiftly Sam put them on, and soon saw the corridor and Briggs with green light. The ops was ready to shoot and faced the southern door. Sam went behind him and faced the northern door, so to be back to back with his ops.

_ Grim? The power is out.

_ I know, she said. The backup generator is out of order too, it'll take five minutes. Two FBI agents are escorting a maintenance guy to set it right. Be careful, you too.

_ We will, don't worry. Call Dr Collins and tell him to be on alert.

_ Copy. Sam, I...

_ I know, Sam said, forcing down his emotion. Love you too, but trust me. I swear I'll come back.

She stayed silent, but Sam, Five-seveN ready to fire, could picture her standing alone in the control room, bent on the SMI and anguish on her face, wondering if he would hold his promise.

_ Briggs, he whispered, if they shoot, pretend you're dead. Then we'll take them by surprise.

_ Okay, his ops said seriously, if I'm not dead already.

Silently, the door facing Sam opened, and he murmured:

_ Here they come.

_ Same.

The door swung inwardly, and Sam saw a figure crouching on the door frame, with goggles on like him. He took aim in a microsecond and fired. The figure dropped his rifle and jerked backwards, but a second ops was behind the first. Sam got hit, and he felt like a fifty-pound hammer struck him in the chest. He fell backwards, the wind completely knocked out of him. Briggs was crouching behind the potted plant next to the armchairs and was still firing at his opponents, yelling at Grim:

_ We're under attack! Send two FBI agents to our position!

Sam, trying hard to inhale again in spite of the white-hot pain, saw a figure slowly approaching him, in Briggs' back. He found his breathing again, a rattling breath that hurt him so much he almost fainted, but focused on the enemy, five meters away. Feigning to be dead, he lay still, pistol in his open hand. When the ops was two meters away, obviously checking on him, he gripped his Five-seveN and shot. The ops, hit in the head, crumpled to the floor.

Sam glanced at his door and saw no one. Then he carefully turned on his belly, stifling a yelp of pain, and looked at the other door. Two people were hiding behind the door frame, and Briggs was holding his left arm, slumped against the wall.

_ Briggs! Sam whispered urgently. You're hurt?

_ Bullet in the upper arm, the ops managed through gritted teeth. It's nothing. You?

_ Bullet-proof vest saved my life, Sam choked. How many?

_ Two. I hit one in the leg, though.

Sam slithered next to his ops and tore a strip of his T-shirt to bandage Briggs' wound while the ops covered them.

_ Grim? Briggs murmured. Where're the FBI agents?

_ Fighting three enemies, she said immediately, worry in her voice. Are you okay? How's Sam?

_ I'm okay, Sam whispered. Briggs is injured, but not badly. We'll wait for the next assault.

_ A SWAT team is coming, they'll arrive in four minutes.

_ Good, but at this rate in four minutes we'll be dead.

_ I'll make them hurry.

Sam stayed on the floor behind the potted plant, next to Briggs who thankfully was right-handed and could still shoot.

_ How many rounds left? Sam asked him.

_ Five.

_ Make them count.

Sam was regularly checking their backs, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. Suddenly, the power came back, blinding him. He took off his goggles and blinked hard. Through the door frame he saw a Voron ops, recognizable at his uniform, rise and point a gun at something. He heard a Russian word, and before he could take aim the ops shot and ran away. Sam heard a sound he knew was a body falling on the floor, and dread settled in his guts. Had the Voron ops killed one of his own teammates, possibly the one Briggs had wounded?

_ The SWAT team is here, Grim said in his ear. Wait for them.

A minute later, Sam heard heavy footsteps running behind him. He saw the SWAT men approaching them and slowly rose, dropping his gun and rising his arms, imitated by Briggs. He grimaced in pain, as the movement made his chest hurt more than ever, and his head started to spin. Next to him Briggs gasped and said:

_ Oh my God! Sam, you're hurt!

Dizzy, he looked down at his chest and saw the right side of his T-shirt soaked in blood. He didn't understand where the blood came from.

_ But...

_ Sir, a SWAT member said, coming in front of him, you're wounded. Please come with me.

_ Sam? Briggs? Are you all right? Grim asked in his ear.

Sam was confused, and his vision was blurring. He heard Briggs say quickly:

_ Grim! I'm okay but Sam is hurt! Come here, fast!

_ Sir? the SWAT member repeated. Do you hear me?

Sam's knees buckled, and he collapsed on the floor. He vaguely heard the SWAT man call for a medic and a stretcher, but he saw Briggs' blurred figure bend over him.

_ Sam? Sam? Do you hear me? Hold on, Sam! Stay awake!

Sam almost laughed. He had said those exact words to Kestrel a few hours ago, and like then it was useless. He wondered if he was going to die on the floor of the hospital. How ironic it would be! But he couldn't die. He had made a promise to the woman he loved, and he would hold his word.

He dimly registered the cluster of people around him and him being lifted onto a stretcher, then somebody tearing his T-shirt and bullet-proof vest, and some cloth pressed on his chest, near his right shoulder. So that was where he had been shot, he thought. Fortunately, the pain had not increased. In a daze, he saw the lights above his head moving fast, and realized _he_ was the one moving, rolled away on his stretcher. He heard Briggs again, farther away from him.

_ Hold on, Sam! Grim is coming!

If he made it Grim would kill him, he thought. She would never forgive him. At least he hoped that Kestrel was safe and they had the bloody microchip. But he didn't understand how the bullet could pass through his vest. And on that thought he blacked out.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Briggs watched Sam being hurriedly whisked away on his stretcher, panic rising in him. He himself was sitting in one of the armchairs of the corridor, where a doctor was examining his wound. He focused on the SWAT team around him to calm down and try and ignore the throbbing pain in his upper arm. His SC-IS pistol was on his holster again, and he watched the task force bring all the enemy bodies in the corridor.

There were five bodies of Voron agents. Sam had killed two men, two had been shot by FBI agents and one by a fellow Voron ops. A FBI agent had been killed in the assault, which made Briggs furious and sad. The SWAT team was uncovering the faces of the Voron ops for identification when the doc said:

_ You're lucky, agent Briggs. The bullet passed right through your arm, and nothing important has been damaged. A few stitches and you'll be right as new. But you shouldn't use your left arm for five days to heal properly.

_ Okay, doc, Briggs said distractedly.

He was observing a SWAT member discreetly approaching from the operation room's doors and shooting furtive glances around him. Briggs rose and said to the startled doc:

_ Be right back.

Then he casually went to the captain of the team, behind the suspect soldier, and drew out his pistol. The captain was about to protest, but Briggs pointed behind him, scowling. The captain shot a glance over Briggs' shoulder and his eyes widened with surprise. Then Briggs turned on the spot and in three strides pointed his gun against the soldier's neck, where he knew a bullet shot at point-blank range could penetrate the thick armored suit.

_ And where exactly are you going?

The soldier froze, then took out a blade and lashed wildly behind him. In a reflex, Briggs pulled the trigger, killing the man instantly. He cursed as his target crumpled on the floor, and watched the SWAT captain kneel beside his man to remove his helmet.

_ What the...?

The captain looked in surprise at the face of the man and said:

_ That's not Hendricks! But he was with us on the bus! Where is he and who's this guy?

_ I'd bet on another Voron ops, Briggs sighed, cursing inwardly at the death of his enemy. Captain, please check each and everyone of your men. We must be certain all the SWAT members here are who they should be.

_ I couldn't agree more, the captain said.

While he called his team, Briggs returned next to the doctor who had brought back all the supplies to sew his arm. He resumed his seat and watched the SWAT captain asking his startled men to remove their helmets. But no other Voron ops was hiding in their ranks, and Briggs breathed easier as the doctor made the stitches. In the meantime, he thought about these ops who'd rather die than be caught alive, and that irrational fact was driving him crazy.

When the doctor was done, Briggs saw Grim running in the corridor towards him.

_ Briggs! Are you all right? Where's Sam?

_ For me it's nothing, just a bullet through the arm. But Sam has been shot in the chest, and the medics carried him away. I have no news.

_ My God, Grim said with a quivering voice. Who are these...?

_ Voron ops, Briggs said with a grimace. Thanks for the SWAT team and the power back. Without them we would most certainly be dead.

_ Six Voron ops? And this one with the SWAT suit too?

_ Probably. He took the place of a soldier named Hendricks.

_ What about Kestrel?

_ He was out of danger in the latest news, but we're still waiting for the rest.

He shot a meaningful look at Grim, and she immediately understood. But her features were tight with worry and anguish, and he made her sit in the armchair next to him.

_ Don't worry, Sam will be all right.

_ Wasn't he wearing his bullet-proof vest? she asked in dismay.

_ Yes, he was. But the bullet went right through it. Must be a prototype.

The SWAT captain went next to them and said:

_ My men and I will search the hospital, but I don't think your assailants are still there.

_ Thanks for everything, captain, Briggs said. I hope you'll discover what happened to your man.

_ Yeah, me too.

The captain and his men left, and some stretcher-bearers went to collect the bodies of the dead men. Grim got up and took a photo of each man with her smartphone, and soon the corridor was empty. Briggs' arm was painful, but he had other more important things in his mind. The ruthless assault and the six dead ops proved how eager Voron was to find these microchips, regardless of the casualties that could occur.

Grim's phone rang, and she took it out from her trousers' pocket.

_ it's Charlie, she said, and picked up and switched on the loudspeaker.

_ Grim.

_ Grim! It's Charlie! The Paladin's under attack!

_ What? she shouted.

_ The SWAT team you called to protect the plane is shooting on some ops, probably Voron, the tech said quickly. I'm stuck in the workshop, but nobody in the plane has been hurt. I barricaded myself and have enough guns here to wage war on Russia if needed.

_ Oh my God, Grim said, distressed, and Briggs gulped down his fear, concentrating on the anger. What about the fly?

_ It can fly again, Charlie announced, but you won't like his flight.

Briggs rejoiced at the good news. Alpha's microchip was working again, but according to Charlie it was nothing but trouble.

_ That's why Voron is attacking, Briggs said. They want both flies, so they must have different flights.

_ What about you? Charlie asked. Is everyone all right?

_ No, Grim said darkly. Kestrel's okay, but we're waiting for news. Sam has been shot in the chest, again no news. Briggs took a bullet in the arm, he'll be okay, I guess.

_ What? Charlie shouted. Wasn't Sam wearing a bullet-proof vest?

_ Yes, he was, Briggs said, anger rising in his throat. But the bullet went right trough it.

_ Impossible! Charlie said. No bullet can pass through the kevlar and ceramic plates!

_ It _is_ possible, otherwise Sam would be fine, Briggs rumbled angrily.

_ I'll check on the vests as soon as Voron goes away. Looks like the fight stopped, but I'll wait for the captain's clearance.

_ Beware, Charlie, Briggs said. Here a Voron ops was disguised as a SWAT soldier.

_ Don't worry, I know. A SWAT member tried to make me get out in spite of his captain's orders, so I grew suspicious and I threw a gas grenade under his nose through the door's hatch. He's currently snoring in a cell, tied up like a smoked sausage thanks to Ollie and Jun.

_ That's brilliant, Charlie! Briggs rejoiced. We wanted one alive.

_ I know I'm a genius, the young man said, and Briggs was happy to hear him feel better, like his old self. Gotta leave you, I'll be in touch.

_ Be careful, Grim said.

_ You too.

She hung up and exchanged a gloomy look with Briggs.

_ Voron has struck us badly and powerfully just for two small microchips, she said. I do hope they're worth the pain and hard work.

_ When we come back to the Paladin, I'll interrogate the ops in the cell, and I won't show mercy.

He caught the surprised gleam in Grim's eye, but she didn't comment. It was true he didn't like to manhandle people and avoided to kill as much as possible, but this time enough was enough. Voron was playing dirty, then so would Fourth Echelon. And with Kestrel and Sam out of the game, it was him who had to step up and do the work.

In front of them the doors opened and Dr Collins, gun in hand, checked the corridor before saying in the room behind him "All clear!" and marching towards them. Briggs jumped on his feet, and Grim stood up at his side.

_ How's Kestrel, doc? Briggs asked.

_ He's all right, he said. He's slowly waking, we'll take him to a special bedroom with Commander Fisher.

_ You know about Sam? Grim asked him anxiously. How is he?

_ He's having surgery as we speak, the doc said, but it's not too serious. The bullet was stopped by his ribcage, so nothing to worry about. He'll have a small scar and a broken rib, that's all. The surgeon was suturing him when I left, he'll soon be out of here.

_ Thank goodness, Grim exhaled.

_ So Kestrel and Sam will be together? Briggs insisted. It's risky, doc.

_ Yes, I know, he answered apologetically. Unfortunately the FBI needs his agents and left us only two of them. So Dr Jakowicz and I decided to put them in the same bedroom with the two agents in front of their door at all times. It'll only be for a day or so, tomorrow we'll be able to bring them back in the Paladin's infirmary.

_ Okay, doc, Grim said. Thanks for everything.

_ Can we see Kestrel? Briggs asked.

_ Of course, Dr Collins said. Follow me. Oh, I almost forgot.

He put a hand in his pocket and took out a small box. He gave it to Grim, and she opened it. Inside was one of the sources of all their trouble: Kestrel's microchip.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

While following Dr Collins with Briggs in the lift and the long corridors of the hospital, Grim pocketed the microchip in the box with a feeling of dread. So many people have been injured or killed because of this small thing it was depressing. But she steeled her nerves, she had to be strong and professional. However, Sam's state was worrying her sick, and she couldn't wait to be with him again. She was mad at him for having risked his life, but on the other hand he was protecting Kestrel, and he had been right to do so. What she really wished, she realized abruptly, was having him at her side for more than a few hours. She needed long holidays, a vacation with him. After that mission, she swore to herself, they would take a month off, no matter what happened.

Dr Collins reached a small corridor, and at the end a single door was guarded by two FBI agents armed and bullet-proof vests on. Grim greeted them and Briggs shook hands, and they let them enter the room. It was a large white bedroom with great windows overlooking the texan country. They were on the upper floor, where the chances of being targeted by a sniper were very small.

Near the western window, Kestrel was lying on a bed, and Grim walked at his side. His head was completely bandaged, and his face had huge purple and blue bruises. His eyebrows had been sewn back, like the cut on his left cheekbone. His eyes were closed, but his features were relaxed.

Dr Collins and Briggs went around the bed, and the doc said aloud:

_ Agent Kestrel! Time to wake up!

Grim watched Kestrel trying to open his eyes, but it seemed his eyelids were weighting a ton. Briggs said to him:

_ Come on, mate, wake up! We need to talk to you.

Kestrel's eyes fluttered open, but his gaze was still unfocused. He murmured vaguely, eyes blinking slowly, but Grim didn't catch a word. She bent over him and asked him softly:

_ Kestrel? What did you say?

_ Где я? _(Where am I?)_

_ You're in a hospital, Kestrel, she answered him, having understood the Russian words. You've been shot in the back and hit in the head, but you're all right and safe now.

_ Что же произошло? he muttered, fighting to keep his eyes open.

_ Please speak English, Kestrel, Grim said kindly. You're not in Russia, don't worry.

_ What happened? he said weakly, eyebrows knitted in his effort to translate.

_ Do you remember the mission in San Cristobal? And Vikachev torturing you?

_ Yes, he said.

_ Vikachev shot you, Briggs said, so Sam and me brought you to the Paladin and we flew to this military hospital in El Paso. You've had surgery by Dr Collins and the medical crew here.

_ And we removed the microchip that was hidden underneath your brain, Dr Collins added.

Grim saw that Kestrel was confused and tired, and the doc said gently to him:

_ You can sleep now, agent Kestrel. The operation went right, you're out of danger. Rest.

Kestrel immediately closed his eyes, and murmured a last thing before falling asleep.

_ Извините меня.

_ That's it! Briggs exclaimed, making Grim jump but not stirring Kestrel. The Voron guy who shot his colleague! That's what he said! What does it mean?

_ It means "I'm sorry", Grim answered. A Voron ops killed one of his colleagues? Why?

_ I think it's because I injured him, Briggs said. I shot him in the leg, he couldn't walk. So when the power went back on, the other guy said that and shot him before fleeing.

_ They really didn't want to be caught alive, Grim said thoughtfully. I wonder why?

_ We'll soon know, Briggs said seriously. Don't forget the one Charlie is keeping.

_ True. I only wish...

The door opening cut her abruptly and she turned on the spot, hoping it would be Sam. And indeed, she saw him on a bed like Kestrel's, asleep too and chest heavily bandaged with his right arm in a sling. Heart leaping with joy and relief, she walked next to him as two stretcher-bearers put his bed opposite Kestrel's and left. A doctor had followed him and Dr Collins introduced him to Grim.

_ Ms Grimsdottir, my friend and colleague Dr Jakowicz.

_ Pleased to meet you, Grim said with a small smile. How is he?

_ He's okay, Dr Jakowicz answered her calmly. His wound was more upsetting than serious, and fortunately he didn't lose too much blood. He's got a broken rib, it could have been much worse. He'll have to keep his arm in the sling for a week, and the wound should heal nicely.

Grim, forcing down her emotion, only nodded, but the doctor seemed to understand. He continued:

_ He only had a light anesthesia, he'll wake up soon. Let him emerge slowly and calmly, and when he'll be ready he'll talk. The alarm bell is there, he pointed to a red button on the wall next to the door, if anything happens. Agent Kestrel is sleeping?

_ Yes, Dr Collins said. He woke up for a minute or two.

_ Good. He needs rest. A few hours of sleep should do the trick. Do you want to eat dinner here? he asked Grim and Briggs.

_ Er...

_ Yes, please, said Briggs.

_ Then I'll have someone bring you a meal tray. Dr Collins?

_ Coming.

The doctors left, and Grim shot an incredulous glance at her wristwatch. It was already 7.40 pm. The day had passed in a blur. She took a chair next to Sam, while Briggs sat on the armchair near Kestrel. He said:

_ I'm not leaving them. Not until they're free to go. I don't want to take any chances.

_ You're right, she said grimly. If Voron could attack us here and at the Paladin, they can strike again. We'll spend the night here, and I hope tomorrow morning we'll be able to leave.

_ Do you have a gun?

_ No, she said, cursing inwardly.

_ I have Sam's Five-seveN, he said, taking it out of his backpack and handing it to her.

She took it and studied it. The gun was rather small and light, but she knew it was a powerful weapon, one of Sam's favourites. She put it in the belt of her cargo pants and thanked Briggs before turning back her attention to the man she loved. He had relaxed features, like Kestrel, and she was simply happy at him being alive.

Then she remembered Charlie and called him.

_ Yes?

_ Charlie, it's Grim. Everything okay?

_ Yes, all's fine here. Well, almost.

_ What do you mean?

_ Our prisoner, the Voron guy. He committed suicide. Looks like he had some old-fashioned cyanide pill in his mouth, like during the cold war, and gulped it down. Jun found him on the floor of his cell, foam in and around the mouth.

_ Shit.

Briggs shot her an inquiring look, but she concentrated on her conversation with the tech.

_ How are they? Charlie asked.

_ They're okay and sleeping. Briggs and I will stay here and watch over them.

_ Good. The SWAT team is guarding the Paladin until tomorrow, but they can't stay any longer.

_ That's okay, we'll take off tomorrow.

_ But where to?

Grim pursed her lips. They needed a secure place and time to find out the data on the microchips and let Sam and Kestrel heal without being attacked by Voron or Sarto. And she thought about a place just like that, a life insurance she and Sam had bought to retreat to in cases like that.

_ I'll tell you tomorrow. Please tell the pilots we'll take off in the morning.

_ Sure. And what about the fly?

_ It's free.

_ Good. I need it to fly with the other.

_ Right. Goodnight, Charlie.

_ Night, Grim.

She hung up and told Briggs about the dead ops. He grimaced.

_ The bodies are piling up. At this rate Voron won't have any more ops to send us in a week.

_ But that's another one who won't speak, she said dejectedly. We really need to walk off the grid, and take time to understand what's going on.

_ Where will we go?

_ In a safe place. Let's talk about it tomorrow, with this other matter. Both flies are necessary to discern the pattern.

_ Okay, Briggs nodded.

A nurse knocked softly and entered the room, pushing a small trolley with two meal trays, and they ate in silence, then watched the two wounded men sleep peacefully. But Grim, although comfortably settled in her chair and happy to be next to Sam, was too distressed to relax, and she couldn't wait for the sun to rise.

* * *

Chapter 16 coming soon!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

When the sun rose in the horizon through the window behind Sam's bed, Grim stretched on her chair and got up. She hadn't slept at all and had watched over Sam, Kestrel and Briggs who had fallen asleep on his armchair around four in the morning.

She walked next to the ops and shook him slightly.

_ Briggs! Wake up!

The ops awoke with a start and looked at Grim in confusion.

_ What? Where...? Oh, I fell asleep!

_ Yes. But don't worry about it, she reassured him, seeing his crestfallen expression. I didn't sleep, and nothing happened. I'm going to call Dr Collins and ask him if we can go.

_ Okay. Has Sam or Kestrel awoken at all?

_ No, but Sam was snoring softly, so I know he's okay, she smiled.

He nodded, still looking ashamed to have let her down like that, and she gently pressed his shoulder before taking out her smartphone and making the call. Dr Collins was obviously waiting for it, because he picked up at the first ringing.

_ Dr Collins?

_ Good morning, doc. It's Grim.

_ Good morning, Ms Grimsdottir. Is everything all right?

_ Yes. I just wondered...

_ Dr Jakowicz and I are on the way. If Commander Fisher and agent Kestrel are okay, we'll be free to leave the hospital right away.

_ Okay.

She hung up and repeated the doc's words to Briggs. Then she went next to Sam, sitting on his bed, and called him softly to wake him up, while Briggs was doing the same with Kestrel.

_ Sam. Wake up. Sam! Open your eyes!

Sam's eyelids started to lift, but he was still sleepy. She called him once more, stroking his cheek.

_ Sam, wake up!

His eyes fluttered open, and his gaze fixed upon her. He smiled a little and whispered:

_ Grim! I'm alive?

_ Yes, you are, she smiled, relieved, and kissed him. You're alive and safe.

_ I held my promise, then.

_ You had better, otherwise I would have killed you a second time.

_ Just what I thought, he said, his left hand taking her right one. And I don't want to annoy you.

_ Bullshit, Fisher. You love to annoy me.

His eyes, though half-open, shone with a malicious spark, and he had a playful smile on his lips.

_ So what's next? he asked. Nap?

_ If you want, but after the doc's visit. Then we'll go back to the Paladin.

_ How's Kestrel?

_ See for yourself.

She got up and turned round, still holding his hand. In the opposite bed, Kestrel was awake too, and talking softly with Briggs.

_ Hi, Kestrel! she said happily. Welcome back!

_ Thanks, the ops said weakly. So there was a...

_ Yes, she confirmed, cutting him, but we won't discuss it here. Voron is not far, and Sam has been wounded while protecting you in surgery.

Kestrel nodded briefly, and at that moment the door opened and the two doctors entered.

_ Good morning! said Dr Jakowicz brightly. I'm happy to see you both awake!

He approached Kestrel, and Dr Collins went at Sam's side.

_ Commander Fisher, it's good to see you in such a good shape.

_ Hi, doc! What happened to me?

_ You've been shot in the chest, but fortunately the bullet was stopped by your ribcage. You've got a broken rib, that's all. I'm keeping your arm in a sling to let the wound close properly and allow your rib to mend. You'll have to wear it for five days at least.

_ Okay, Sam said. Can I get up?

_ Not today. You'll stay in bed until tomorrow morning and rest. But I see you're well enough to fly, so if agent Kestrel is okay...

Dr Collins turned towards Kestrel, closely examined by his colleague, and Grim noticed that the ops' gaze was wistful and sad. She wondered if he was thinking about what happened in San Cristobal but didn't want to bring up the subject in front of everybody. At last Dr Jakowicz raised and said to Kestrel:

_ You're quite strong, young man. I'd say you're healing fast, and that's good for you. In a few days you'll be right as rain. But today you stay in your bed and you sleep, right? No standing position until tomorrow.

_ Okay, Kestrel murmured. Thanks.

Grim could hear the sorrow in his voice, and she promised herself to talk with him once aboard the plane.

_ Right! Dr Jakowicz said. Dr Collins?

_ All clear.

_ Then you can go. Two ambulances are waiting outside the main entrance. You'll be escorted by the FBI agents, and I wish you well.

_ Thanks, Sam said, and Grim saw Kestrel nod.

The two doctors opened the door, and four paramedics entered the room, pushing stretchers. They carefully slided Sam and Kestrel on them, and left the room. Grim thanked Dr Jakowicz one more time then followed, Briggs behind her. She had the Five-seveN in her hand, arm down but on alert. The FBI agents walked front, weapons ready, but nothing happened.

Once outside, Grim saw the two ambulances, and she followed Sam and a FBI agent in the first while Briggs, Dr Collins and the other agent went with Kestrel in the second one. She sat on the small seat and took out her smartphone, calling Charlie.

_ Yes?

_ Charlie, it's Grim. We're leaving the hospital and be there in about twenty minutes.

_ Okay, I'll tell the pilots and the medical crew.

_ Thanks.

She hung up and looked at Sam. He had fallen asleep again, and she gently took his hand. During the ride she never let her eyes off him, and hoped he'd heal soon. But as his injury was not too serious, she wasn't too worried. However, what really worried her was Kestrel's state of mind. He had looked inwardly devastated and lost, and she couldn't wait to be alone with him and talk to him. She thought about Alpha and her last request to her. The young woman had asked Grim to watch over Kestrel, fearing a nervous breakdown. It had not happened, though it had been close, but now that Alpha's body was gone, Grim dreaded Kestrel's reaction.

Sooner than she expected, the ambulances reached the airport and halted at the Paladin's ramp. The medical crew took care of Sam and Kestrel while Grim and Briggs thanked the FBI agents and ran to the control room. They met Charlie who asked Grim:

_ So, where do we go?

_ Boise.

_ In Idaho?

_ Yes. I'll explain when we're in flight.

Charlie nodded and contacted the pilots. Grim went to the infirmary and checked that the two men were safely settled. Sam had awoken when off the ambulance, but he was back in Dreamland. Kestrel was awake but had such a pained expression on his face that Dr Collins injected him some sedative, and soon the ops' eyes closed. The doc saw Grim in the door frame and said darkly:

_ He's physically healing, but his mind is shattering. He'll need time before going on any mission.

_ We all need time, but him especially, Grim agreed. We're heading to a safe place in the country and have a few days off, and I'd appreciate it if you and one of the nurses could come with us, doc. I know you could have other plans, but I think we'll need your help.

_ You're lucky, Ms Grimsdottir, the doc said with a sad smile. I've broken up with my date two weeks ago, so I've got no plans for New Year's eve.

_ New Year's eve? Grim repeated, surprised. When is it?

_ Tomorrow evening.

_ Really?

_ Really. So if you have a good bottle of bourbon I accept.

_ Okay, thanks.

Grim couldn't believe the following evening was New Year's eve. Time had slipped by so fast she still thought her on the 28th. She heard the pilot's voice through the intercom warning for take-off, and she went back to the control room and sat in a buckled seat, next to Briggs and Charlie, her mind in turmoil.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Once the Paladin reached his flight altitude, Grim, Briggs and Charlie got up and gathered around the SMI, who was de facto their meeting table. Grim took out the microchip they defended so hard and gave it to Charlie.

_ Here you go, she said darkly. Tell us what all this mess is about.

Without a word, Charlie switched on the SMI and put the microchip in a slot. Then he took out from his pocket the other microchip and put it in a slot next to the first. They all bend on the console and watched the two files connecting and interacting, fusing one with another. And when it was done, Grim could not believe her eyes, and watched the big screen with an incredulous look.

_ Holy shit! Briggs whispered.

_ Oh my God! Charlie said, eyes widened.

_ That's bad, bad, bad, Grim growled.

Before her eyes, displayed on the screen, a complete war scheme was taunting them. It involved a Russian nuclear-powered submarine and the twenty missing Chkval torpedoes firing on several American navy boats, with the complicity of Meggido and some high members of Voron. In this scheme, the late deputy director of the NSA and chief of Meggido, Andrew O'Brian, was to push the American government to declare war on Russia after the attack, helped by Sturridge of the MI-6. And on Russia's side, Timochenko was to provoke the downfall of Voron with the help of its commander, Leonid Avilov, and bring the Russian special forces in a war with the American agencies. All that in order to undermine the US president Caldwell's credibility before the elections and bring to power a puppet of Meggido, Thomas McDonnell.

_ That's terrible, Grim said. Is it Sarto's plan? Does he want to carry it on? And what about Voron? Are they all on his side?

_ No, Briggs said, pointing to a small list. Look. It says here that some of their members must be killed because they are too loyal and can't be corrupted, and Kestrel is on the list. But I think this is indeed Sarto's plan.

_ But why did Timochenko put half of the plan in Kestrel's head and the other half in Alpha's? Grim wondered. It doesn't make sense.

Charlie gasped and ran towards his computer, and Grim and Briggs went behind him in silence to look at what he was doing. He hurriedly typed some command sequences, and soon the SMI was isolated from the network. Then he searched in the microchips' programs, and found a Trojan horse which was trying to breach Fourth Echelon's digital protection and a localization beacon in Kestrel's microchip. He killed them in a few minutes, and checked the complete system to counter other threats. But the system was clean, and he sighed deeply, reclining on the back of his chair.

_ It made sense, he finally said. The beacon in the microchip. I suppose there was one in Alpha's one too.

_ So even if they were dead, the microchips could have been found, Grim completed. But why hide this scheme inside them? I assume Timochenko put his chip in Kestrel's head three years ago, but Alpha's one had been forced in her ear a year and a half later by this Spanish guy, Villas. Why?

_ We must discover what Timochenko was planning to do with Kestrel, Briggs said darkly. Only he has the answer to this problem, since Alpha's dead. It's essential we know it, because it could reveal dissension between some Meggido members. And it could explain why Sarto escaped and not Coudray, for example.

_ You really want to ask Kestrel to recount his months of torture and suffering? Charlie grimaced.

_ I don't like the idea, Briggs admitted. But it seems we have no choice. That war scheme is starting, we can't wait to be at war with Russia.

_ You can't ask him just yet, Grim shook her head adamantly. He's on the verge of a nervous breakdown, your questions would crush him. Remember, he lost Alpha again.

_ That reminds me I have to phone my colleague in San Cristobal, Briggs said. As for Kestrel, I know the time's not ideal, but we can't do otherwise. Don't worry, Grim, he's strong. He'll take it on the chin and carry on as usual.

_ I wouldn't be so sure, she said grimly. Charlie, are you sure nobody can hack our system and see that war scheme? Voron...

_ They can't, Grim, he said calmly. I've isolated us from the network, we're perfectly safe.

_ Good. We should land in Boise in about three hours and a half. I suggest we have breakfast, then I'll arrange everything for our arrival.

_ About that, Briggs said. Why are we heading to Boise, of all places?

_ Because Sam and I bought a large chalet in the Boise national forest a year ago, she explained. We wanted a safe place for Fourth Echelon in case of emergency, and I think the situation qualifies as such.

_ That's great, Charlie said, as long as you've got an internet connection.

_ No, Grim smiled. The chalet is completely isolated.

_ What? But you can't...

_ Kidding, Charlie. Of course we have the internet. It's necessary for Fourth Echelon's work.

_ Oh, he sighed, reassured. Well, in this case, I'm in!

_ Right, she said, taking out her smartphone and handing it to Charlie. In there are the photos of the dead Voron ops. I want you two to identify them, and learn as much as possible on every Voron member, especially on this Leonid Avilov. And Briggs, call Kobin and ask him where he is with the tracking of Dos Anjos. Breakfast in half an hour.

_ Copy, he said. You go to the infirmary?

_ Yes. But the questions for Kestrel will have to wait, he had a sedative from the doc.

Briggs nodded and went to phone his colleague and Kobin while Charlie started to hack into Voron's server. Grim walked towards the infirmary and knocked on the door. Dr Collins went to open it and smiled.

_ Ms Grimsdottir. Come in.

_ Doc, I already told you. Please call me Grim.

_ I can't bring myself to call you that, especially since you're not grim at all.

_ Then call me Anna.

_ All right, then, Anna.

_ That's better, she smiled, entering the small room. How are they?

_ Agent Kestrel will sleep until late afternoon, I expect. Commander Fisher is resting, but he awakes from time to time and looks well enough.

She nodded and stared at the two men lying on the beds. They were both sleeping soundly, but she knew only Sam was really resting. Her gaze lingered on Kestrel, and she saw that even in a deep sleep his features were tightened. She exchanged a concerned look with Dr Collins and he said, answering her silent question:

_ I'm worried about him. After Alpha's death, he almost had a breakdown, but you and Commander Fisher helped him although he came very close to falling into it. But now I'm afraid it's too late, and sadly I'm no psychologist.

_ And we'll have to ask him very painful questions, doc. About his past and the man who tortured him.

_ He won't be able to bear it, the doc said immediately. Forget the idea, Anna.

_ But we're on the brink of war, and only he has the intel to help us avoiding it.

She hated herself to insist, but she had to trust that Kestrel would bear it and help them prevent World War III. Timochenko's files were out of reach in Russia, certainly in the hands of Voron, and that was probably how they learned about the microchips. All Meggido's servers had been thoroughly searched, by no evidence had been found on such a plan. Unfortunately for them, only Kestrel could put them on the right tracks. But she knew that, in his state, it was very risky, and next to her Dr Collins told her so.

_ How far could he go in his state? she asked him, distressed.

_ I told you I'm no psychologist, but I can tell you this: first he lost the woman he loved three times with her death, the disappearance of her body and now the explosion of her coffin. Second, he's been tortured again by an ex-colleague and knows his former agency wants him dead. Third, he's been force-fed alcohol in such a huge quantity that it could bring back his addiction. And fourth, if you ask him difficult questions that make his worst memories resurface, he could snap. And I'm not talking about him wrecking some furniture. He could think he is so distrusted and alone that he would commit suicide.

_ Do you really think he could do such a thing? Grim asked him, dread squeezzing her guts.

_ I can't be a hundred percent sure, but given his file and what he had to endure, that's a likely possibility. He has had a very difficult life, and I'm not sure he could cope with much more suffering.

Grim looked at Kestrel again, anguish and fear twisting her guts. She knew she shouldn't ask him anything and only help him stay out of a breakdown, but she had a war to avoid, thousands of deaths to prevent. And she just couldn't picture calm and poker-faced Kestrel committing suicide, that wasn't possible. But she didn't want to take any risk with his sanity or his life, even if Alpha had left her a recording to show him in case of a suicide attempt.

Her mind split into two opposing positions, she didn't know what to do. At last she said aloud:

_ I won't ask him anything until tomorrow. By then I hope he'll feel better, and it'll give me time to gently explain the situation to him and prepare him.

_ I cannot oppose you on that matter, Anna, said Dr Collins darkly, but I don't think it wise. Fortunately I'll be around, and Nurse Anderson has agreed to come with us too.

_ Thank you, doc. We'll land in a little more than three hours now, in Boise.

_ I love Idaho. We'll have calm and fresh air, I hope.

_ Yes, she said, and maybe snow.

_ A snowy New Year's eve, the doc sighed. How romantic.

As she headed for the dining cabin, Grim couldn't suppress a chill down her spine. She hoped they would have time to rest and recover, and not be too late to stop Sarto provoking a war disaster. But most of all she hoped that their questions wouldn't push Kestrel to kill himself.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

When Kestrel awoke, he felt the plane landing. A little disoriented, he fought the last urge of sleep and opened his eyes. He saw immediately he was not in his cabin, and recognized the infirmary of the Paladin. On the bed next to him he saw Sam, also awake but lying down, looking at him.

_ Hi there, Sam said with a smile. How are you, Kestrel?

_ Fine, thanks, Kestrel simply said, forcing down his pain and his turmoil. You?

_ Feeling great, even if I can't move my right arm. I'll have the damn sling on for a week.

_ Thanks for protecting me.

_ My honor. I couldn't let these Voron bastards have your skin.

_ And the microchip?

_ Dr Jakowicz removed it safely from your head, but I don't know the news. I awoke five minutes before you.

Kestrel nodded, and he was relieved not to feel any pain in his head or in his chest. But in his mind it was another matter. In his ears the explosion of Alpha's coffin still rang, and that sound was like a black hole, sucking all hope and light out of him.

He closed his eyes, avoiding Sam's gaze, and let his head fall down on his pillow. He only wanted to go back to sleep, a long and permanent one, where he could be with Alpha in his dreams. Under the blankets his limbs were shaking, but it was not from cold. He needed vodka, and hated himself to need it. That cursed Vikachev had brought back his alcohol addiction with his despicable torture, and even if he had been killed, the damage was done.

Kestrel shut his eyes tighter, fighting the yelp of agony that was threatening to come out. All these efforts he had done to come over Alpha's death and have a normal life seemed to have disappeared, the vivid pain coming back and crushing everything in its wake. Suddenly, overwhelmed by the pain and the withdrawal he abruptly sat up and started to get up.

_ Kestrel? Sam asked in surprise behind him. I don't think you should stand up yet.

But Kestrel ignored him and grabbed his clothes, hastily putting them on. He desperately needed a glass of vodka to fight the black hole in his heart, knowing that it was a downward spiral that would eventually kill him, but he was weary and in despair. He just couldn't fight anymore.

Before he could exit the room the plane stopped and the door opened. Dr Collins entered and looked at him with concern.

_ Agent Kestrel, you shouldn't be up. Please lie down.

_ No, Kestrel murmured. I'm sorry but I won't. I'm feeling all right.

Dr Collins walked calmly to him and surveyed him with a searching look.

_ Then please let me examine you. Afterwards you'll be free to go.

Kestrel nodded in agreement and sat back on his bed. The doctor took his stethoscope and carefully listened to his heart and lungs. He took his blood pressure, removed the bandages on his head and looked at his wounds. Finally he straightened and said:

_ You're truly a fast healer, agent Kestrel. The wounds on your head are already scars, and all seems to be in order. I'll look at the wound on your chest tonight, but for now you can stay up. However, I strongly recommend you to lie down when you feel dizzy or slightly tired for the next three days.

_ Thanks.

Kestrel's tight throat only managed this simple word, but Dr Collins shot him a strange look and was about to add something when they heard a loud knock on the door and Briggs entered.

_ Hey! he said brightly. Glad to see the sleeping beauties are awake at last! All right?

_ Yeah, thanks, Sam said in Kestrel's back, and he himself only nodded. Where are we? What's happening now?

_ We've just landed at the Boise airport, Briggs answered. We'll be out in the country for a few days.

_ The chalet? Sam asked in surprise. The situation must be real bad, then.

_ It is, Briggs confirmed grimly. We need time to work on a plan and rebuild your strength. And be safe from Voron, he added with a look at Kestrel, who immediately felt guilty to be endangering all Fourth Echelon members. They struck us pretty hard, even if they lost seven ops.

_ Seven? Sam said. I thought we killed six in the hospital.

_ Voron attacked the Paladin in El Paso as well, and like in the hospital an ops was disguised as a SWAT soldier. But Charlie threw a gas grenade at him, and he was in one of the cells, ready to be interrogated, but this son of a bitch gulped down a cyanide pill.

_ Shit, Sam said. So we haven't got any ops alive. See, Kestrel, they all chose death rather than capture. Is it normal behaviour for Voron ops?

_ No, Kestrel said, his fists clenched, his back still on Sam.

He was offended by the question, as it had been more than three years since he had left Voron, and left the infirmary under Briggs' startled look and Dr Collins concerned one. He headed straight for the kitchen and took the bottle of vodka out of the liquor cupboard, then went to his cabin and closed the door, leaning on it. There he let out the groan he had fought so hard to keep inwards, closing his eyes to shut the tears inside.

_ Alpha! he whispered with a broken voice, tears flooding through his closed eyelids. Why did you have to die? What am I going to do without you?

He wanted to die, to stop the excruciating pain in his heart and the feeling of loneliness and loss that had surged forward from the past. And he loathed the shaking of his body that was yelling for alcohol. With a disgusted cry he wrenched the bottle open and drank a large shot.

The strong Polish vodka burned his throat, but his body immediately relaxed, and he felt better. He drank another sip, and tried to avoid Alpha's photo on the wall opposite him.

_ Извините меня, лювбимая. _(I'm sorry, my love)_

He wiped away his tears and in a few minutes the bottle was empty. Then he put some clothes and his toiletries in a bag, knowing that they would soon get out of the plane. He put the bottle on his nightstand, not caring about the team's reactions. They would smell the vodka on him, and he was feeling too good to care about the consequences. He knew he was drunk, but not completely plastered. The pain had vanished, and it was all that mattered for him.

A soft knock on the door jarred him out of his numb thoughts, and he said:

_ Come in.

He turned on the spot and saw Grim in the door frame. She looked at him, and her gaze fell on the empty bottle. Her expression turned sad, but Kestrel simply didn't care. He said:

_ Are we leaving?

_ Yes, she nodded. I'm happy to see you up. Kestrel, we need to talk.

_ About what?

_ About Voron.

He bent on his bag, fighting his anger. Of course the team would ask him all sorts of questions on Voron sooner or later, he had known it as soon as he had joined Fourth Echelon, but now wasn't the time.

_ What do you want to know? he rumbled, not hiding his annoyance.

_ I was thinking we could discuss it tomorrow, when we're settled in the chalet. It's a safe place, and...

_ Safe from Voron? Unless they've changed much in three years, no place is safe from them.

She didn't comment, and Kestrel saw she was worried about him, but he played dumb. He closed his bag and asked her:

_ Do we take some guns?

_ No need, she said after a few seconds of thinking. We have plenty of them in the basement of the chalet.

He nodded, but was going to take his Beretta in the cargo hold anyway. In no way would he walk to an unknown destination without a gun. Then he followed her out of his cabin, closing the door without a look for Alpha's photo for the first time in a year. He was too ashamed to do that.

In the cargo hold he discreetly grabbed his gun and met Briggs, Charlie, Grim, Dr Collins and a nurse around Sam's stretcher. Sam was protesting:

_ I can walk, doc! I'm no handicapped man, I can use my legs!

_ Not yet, Commander. You'll leave the stretcher here, but you'll be only sitting in the car then on the couch until tomorrow.

_ You gave Kestrel permission to stand! Why him and not me?

_ Because he's already healed, and you not yet.

_ That's not fair! Sam grumbled, winking at Kestrel.

Kestrel half-smiled, but soon his chief's jokes couldn't shake him out of his melancholy. And when the ramp went down and they climbed on the SUVs, he went with Grim and Sam but sat in the back seat. Grim, behind the wheel, shot him an inquiring look but didn't say a thing. Sam, before climbing in the shotgun seat, looked at him with a strange expression on his face, and Kestrel saw he had smelled the alcohol. But he closed his eyes, and hoped they wouldn't bother him with questions. Then they departed, and soon Kestrel fell asleep, in a dreamless void where pain and solitude were meaningless words, wishing he could stay there for ever.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 19 coming soon!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The SUV's brakes woke Kestrel up, and he looked at their destination, rubbing his eyes. All he could see was a thick forest around a very large, three-floored wooden chalet covered in snow. He climbed down the car and grabbed his, Sam's and Grim's bags. Then he followed them towards the wraparound porch and the thick wooden door, treading in ankle-deep snow. Grim unlocked the door, deactivated the alarm and entered, switching on the lights and the underfloor heating. Sam and Kestrel then followed her in the huge living room, right of the hall, and behind them Charlie, Briggs, Dr Collins and Nurse Anderson went in and closed the door.

Kestrel couldn't help being impressed by the room he was in. A large wooden table with chairs was on his immediate right, in front of a large window overlooking the forest, and on his left some comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs were clustered around a low table and in front of a huge wood stove. Hanging on the walls a few oil paintings showed winter country scenes.

Grim's voice shook him out of his observation.

_ I'll show you all your rooms, so you can settle in while I cook lunch. It's 11 am in Boise, but I think we all are hungry.

All around him he heard murmurs of approval, and he followed Grim in the stairs just opposite the front door, behind Sam. He dropped Grim's and Sam's bags in the first bedroom of the second floor, where Sam was ordered to lie down on the king-sized bed by an adamant Dr Collins, and watched Grim give the two other bedrooms to their doc and the nurse.

Then Grim led him, Briggs and Charlie to the top floor and indicated him the first bedroom on the right. It was a large room with a king-sized bed too, a desk with a chair and an armchair next to the window. A wardrobe was standing in the corner, and he started to put his clothes in it. He felt Grim's presence in his back for a few minutes but ignored her, and she left at last. He straightened and closed his door, then he strode towards the window.

The view was so beautiful it was breathtaking. He could see the forest extending all around the chalet, the high fir trees covered in glittering snow, and a small snowy road from where he assumed they came in the SUVs. A hundred meters away towards the east, a dirt path led to what looked like a clearing with a waterfall in a cluster of rocks. He even saw a deer running into the underwood.

Suddenly, he felt breathless and claustrophobic in his large room. He hastily put on a thick vest and ran downstairs, oblivious to Sam's question in his open bedroom and Grim's puzzled expression on the threshold of the kitchen. He wrenched the door open and ran outside, ignoring the howling wind and the falling snow.

He ran along the dirt path at top speed for a good five kilometers before regaining some composure and slowly stopping. His mind was in complete disarray, but he felt better being outside. He gathered his bearings and looked around him. He was in a small clearing, very much like the one he had seen from his window, but in this one a frozen pond was standing five meters away from him. He carefully approached it and tested his weight on it. The thick ice held on, and he was almost disappointed. He would have welcomed a drown in this pond, welcomed the freezing and slow suffocation. Then he ran around the clearing, yelling in pain and anguish, hitting the fir trees and lashing out, calling out Alpha's name until his mind went blank from suffering and guilt.

When he regained consciousness, he saw he was back in the chalet's living room, seated in one of the comfortable armchairs and a thick blanket on him. Next to him a fire was roaring in the stove, and on the low table in front of him a coffee pot and a mug were waiting for him. He straightened on the armchair and let the blanket fall on the carpet at his feet. He poured himself some coffee and sipped it with a feeling of gratitude, seeing that his knuckles were once again bandaged.

_ Kestrel?

He turned his head towards the door and saw Sam leaning on the door frame, his right arm still in his sling on his chest.

_ May I join you?

Kestrel nodded, still not trusting his voice. Sam went to sit in the sofa opposite him and took his time to start speaking.

_ Are you hungry?

Kestrel shook his head, he didn't want to eat in case he threw up. Sam didn't look surprised he was not talking and went on:

_ It's three in the afternoon. If you're hungry later, Grim had saved you some potatoes and pork chops in the oven. Are you feeling better?

Kestrel hung his head. He was not feeling better, and the black hole was still there, threatening to engulf him. And he felt a huge desire to lay hands on vodka again. So he shook his head once more, not wanting to lie to his boss and friend. Sam sat forward and said softly:

_ We won't judge you, Kestrel, you know. We all smelled vodka on you, but nobody will say a thing about it. I suppose it's since San Cristobal that you have to drink again?

Kestrel nodded and put his head in his hands. He was so ashamed of himself and feeling lonely and desperate that he dissolved into tears. Sam went to sit on the couch next to him and put his free hand on his shoulder.

_ Let it all out, Kestrel. Don't be afraid.

So Kestrel sobbed for a few minutes, trying to, evacuate all his bad feelings, his pain, his grief and his tension. But the pain didn't ease, and the black hole was closer than ever. So he abruptly got up, making Sam jump, and looked around him. And sure enough, he saw a small set of cupboards behind Sam's sofa and went to dig in it. He found an intact bottle of Russian vodka and drank several mouthfuls out of it.

Sam was looking at him with a gloomy expression, but Kestrel was beyond shame. He sat back into his armchair, gulped down a large shot, and spoke for the first time with a hoarse voice.

_ I hate myself to drink like that. But I can't help it. It drowns the pain. I'm so tired, Sam. So tired of the pain and suffering. I can't fight against it anymore.

Kestrel couldn't look at Sam, afraid to see his expression. He drank the rest of the liquor and set the empty bottle on the low table, next to the coffee pot. Sam still hadn't said a word about it. Then Kestrel heard him sigh deeply and say:

_ It won't solve anything, Kestrel. It's only temporary, and you'll need more and more vodka to ease your pain.

Kestrel felt his anger rise again, and part of him tried to calm it down, since he knew he was a mean drunk. Sam was right, of course, but he couldn't accept it. He wanted to retort violently, but his head was spinning more and more, and he thought dimly that two bottles of vodka a day were probably too much. His head slumped back on the armchair, eyes closed, and he heard Sam call him.

_ Hey, Kestrel! Open your eyes!

But his eyes were too heavy, and his head spinning so fast he grabbed the armrests in a pathetic attempt to make it stop. He heard Sam rise next to him and call Dr Collins, then felt a hand slap his cheek and heard Sam calling him again:

_ Kestrel, for heaven's sake! Open your eyes! Come on, boy, open your eyes!

Then he heard hurried footsteps coming closer to him and Grim ask:

_ Sam? What's happening to him? He drank an entire bottle again?

_ Yes. Do you mean he had an entire one this morning too?

_ Yes! He'll have an alcoholic coma!

_ Kestrel! Sam slapped him harder. Open your eyes now!

But Kestrel felt himself falling into the black hole, and was too happy to leave the pain behind. So he let the void gulp him and sank into a blissful oblivion.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sam, panic and anger rising in his chest, slapped Kestrel and called him out another time, but next to him Grim said, worry in her voice:

_ Too late, he lost consciousness.

He straightened and watched Dr Collins and the nurse run in the living room towards them, and took a step back to let them around the ops. Then he grabbed the empty bottle of vodka, fuming over it, and threw it as hard as he could in the corner of the room, where it exploded in tiny pieces.

_ Dammit! he yelled, letting off the steam. He's gonna kill himself with alcohol! How can we help him? Doc, tell me how we can help him!

Dr Collins, who was lifting Kestrel's eyelids and peering into his eyes with a small flashlight, didn't answer at once. He took out his stethoscope and listened to the ops' chest, then turned to face Sam.

_ Don't worry, he's not in a coma. He drank the bottle too quickly, I suppose?

_ In around seven or eight minutes.

_ What? Grim cried.

Dr Collins didn't look surprised and simply said:

_ He's very strong and his body can assimilate alcohol ten times faster than anybody. He drank too fast, that's all. He'll sleep it off in about half an hour. I timed it when he has been tortured.

_ Yes, but what about the times that will follow? Sam insisted. How can we prevent them?

_ He's in a depressed state, Dr Collins said seriously. You cannot prevent them by opposing him. He needs time, and a reason to live.

Sam felt dread tightening his chest. He knew first-hand that one couldn't easily find a reason to live. It was bloody difficult, painful and required a lot of courage and efforts. But Kestrel had confessed to him that he was tired.

_ Doc, he said to me he was tired of the pain, that he couldn't fight anymore.

_ Then it means that he's thinking about suicide, with alcohol or another means.

Grim put her hand in front of her mouth in horror, and Sam felt so helpless and in dismay that he wanted to shout and wreck the room. He couldn't watch his ops fall so low and commit suicide without doing something. He wanted to shake Kestrel, take out his pain and make him forget his ordeals. But the ops had to find his own path, and he only could be next to him and not give him a reason to kill himself.

_ Have you questioned him yet? Dr Collins asked Grim.

_ No. I told him I wanted to do so tomorrow, though.

Sam shot her a puzzled look, and she told him that their only intel on Timochenko's and Voron's intentions were Kestrel and his past. Sam shuddered inwardly. They still hadn't talked about what the microchips were about, Grim had wanted to postpone the meeting until the evening. And of course, after lunch Briggs, Charlie and Dr Collins had gone out to find Kestrel and had brought him back unconscious and frozen. But Sam thought that with his breakdown, asking that sort of things to Kestrel was very dangerous.

He locked eyes with Grim, and saw her distress. She didn't want to push Kestrel beyond his limits, but on the other hand the situation looked very bad. So he took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. He said to the doc:

_ We'll wait here and watch over Kestrel.

Dr Collins nodded and said:

_ I'll try and have a nap, then.

He and the nurse left, and Sam and Grim sat on the sofa opposite Kestrel, still hugging. Sam gently kissed Grim's hair, stroking her back, and said:

_ Is it so bad?

_ Yes, she whispered. Meggido wants to start a war.

Sam felt himself sigh deeply. It always seemed they were on duty to prevent wars, never relaxing. He dimly wondered if the other agencies' directors slept as little as him.

_ And you really need Kestrel's answers? Is there no other way?

_ Briggs and Charlie are working on it, but so far nothing. I'm scared to ask him questions, Sam. What if he kills himself? It'll be my fault. He has suffered too much already.

_ No, my love, it won't be your fault, Sam said, his heart squeezing in his chest. We'll help him, like we did a year and a half ago.

_ But this time he has really started drinking. My God, what will happen to him?

_ Shh, my love. Don't worry. Let him sleep, then you'll slowly explain the situation to him, and to me while you're at it. He's a very smart guy, he'll understand. Ask him your questions right afterwards. With all the vodka he drank, it'll probably anesthetize his mind, so he won't feel too much pain.

_ You're sure about it?

_ Positive, Sam said with comfidence. And I'll take another bottle just in case.

_ Sam! Grim looked at him with outrage. Don't make him drink!

_ I won't. I told you it'll be just in case, if he needs it. I'll go and fetch it, then as soon as he's awake we'll gather the team for the meeting, right?

Grim nodded, and Sam strode towards the kitchen. He knew that in a low cupboard Grim had stocked a lot of liquor in case they were stuck in the chalet by the snow, and sure enough he found six bottles of vodka among other strong liquors. He took two with a glass, balancing them on his sling, and went back to the living room. He put one and the glass on the low table, in front of Kestrel, and the other one in the cupboard behind Grim's sofa. Then he resumed his seat, holding Grim's hand and watching Kestrel sleeping soundly.

The ops slept for a little less than an hour, and slowly emerged on his armchair. Grim got up and went upstairs to fetch Briggs and Charlie, who were working in the office on the second floor. Sam sat forward and looked at Kestrel yawning, stretching and opening his eyes, looking around him in surprise.

_ Sam? What happened?

_ You slept your vodka off. Took you an hour.

Kestrel straightened and stood up, shame on his face.

_ I'm sorry, he mumbled. I know I'm only a dead weight for you now, and I'll...

_ Don't even think about saying such a fucking stupidity aloud, Kestrel! Sam rumbled angrily, standing up too and facing his ops. You're depressed and have a drinking problem, but you're still a Fourth Echelon ops and I expect nothing but the best from you! So you'll have a nice week off with us in this wonderful winter resort, you'll chop wood with us, you'll work on the mission with us, you'll cook with us and soon you'll feel better. But do not tell me you're a fucking dead weight, do you hear me?

Kestrel briefly held up his gaze, and Sam saw in the brown eyes the empty void that was consuming his ops' mind, and he felt furor rising in him. But he forced it down and extended his arm, putting his left hand on Kestrel's shoulder.

_ Are you ready to help us, Kestrel? We need you. We need your answers. I still don't know what all this mess is about, but Grim told me she wanted you to work with us on the problem. Please. We need you, Kestrel. And we're there for you. You're not alone.

The ops, eyes glassy, looked down on the table and saw the glass and the vodka. Then he raised his gaze and looked intently at Sam.

_ Grim wants to ask me questions about Voron. The vodka can't be from her.

_ It's from me, Sam confessed. I don't want you to drink it, though.

_ You know I will. The alcohol makes me forget and the pain fades.

Kestrel inhaled deeply, then said:

_ Sam, I don't want to dive back in my past. Please, don't ask me anything.

_ I'm really sorry, Kestrel, Sam said with anguish, seeing the desperate look in his ops' eyes. If Briggs and Charlie have found out without your help, I'll leave you alone, I swear. But...

_ I see. Don't worry, I understand.

Kestrel sat back in his armchair and opened the bottle of vodka. He poured himself a large shot in the glass and sipped it. Sam sat back on the sofa and looked at him with worry. Then Kestrel raised his glass and said sarcastically:

_ To our good health, and hell with the past!

He drained his glass and slammed it on the low table. Sam could see his anger, and didn't say anything. He' rather have Kestrel angry than depressed, maybe it would be easier for him to talk in that way, even if he'd have to sacrifice some furniture to the ops' boiling temper.

Grim came back in the room, Briggs and Charlie behind her. Charlie was carrying a laptop and Briggs an overhead projector. Grim, frowning a little, pushed aside Kestrel's glass and bottle to make way for the machines. Briggs and Charlie greeted Kestrel, and the ops sat in the armchair next to his comrade while the tech powered the machines and connected them. In a few minutes the projector showed a white screen on the wall above the stove.

_ So, Sam said, breaking the thick silence. Grim, tell us what this shit is about.

She pressed a key on the laptop and the war scheme appeared on the wall. Stunned, Sam listened to her as she explained the contents of the two microchips, Sarto's plans to start a war between the USA and Russia, the corruption of some members of Voron and the weird behaviour of Timochenko and Villas who hid the microchips inside Alpha's and Kestrel's heads.

Opposite him, Kestrel studied closely the scheme, then poured himself another glass. Sam understood now why Grim was so torn. Only the ops had possible answers, and Kestrel seemed to understand it too. But he asked nevertheless:

_ Briggs, Charlie, did you find anything on this war scenario or Meggido's intentions?

They both shook their heads dejectedly, shooting sad looks at Kestrel. So Sam inhaled deeply and reluctantly turned towards his ops.

_ Kestrel? Are you ready?

Kestrel's hands started to tremble, and Sam hopelessly watched him pour another shot of vodka in his glass, draining it in three gulps. Then the ops breathed deeply, bracing himself, and said:

_ I am.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Kestrel was feeling cornered and lonely. The war scheme of Meggido and some members of Voron was terrifying, but he would've preferred to keep his past for himself, and try and forget it. But now Fourth Echelon needed answers, and only he had them. He could see the team's embarrassment and worry about him, and understood perfectly the seriousness of the situation, but part of him wanted to scream at them to go fuck off. Hadn't he suffered enough that he would have to revive all the pain and tortures?

He waited for the first question, head hung low, his hand still around his empty glass. The three shots he had drunk were slowly making his mind numb, but he feared it wouldn't be enough. Then Grim took a deep breath, and Kestrel braced himself.

_ Kestrel, she asked timidly, what do you know about Leonid Avilov?

He shut his eyes, and images flashed in his mind. A mangled body in a Pakistanese cell, a party with flowing vodka in a dingy bar in Moscow, Avilov's cruel sneer as he slit a girl's throat, and himself, nausea rising in his chest, sending his fist in Avilov's face, and the week in the jail that had followed. At last he said, his voice shaking:

_ Voron ops. Killer. Madman.

_ He's Voron's commander now, Grim said softly. Who was your commander?

Kestrel felt a chill down his spine and opened his eyes, hastily pouring himself a glass of vodka. He drained it and murmured:

_ Serguei Vialitsyn.

He saw Charlie typing on the laptop, searching, and Kestrel's heart squeezed in dismay. If Avilov was commander then it meant Vialitsyn was dead, and even if Kestrel saw without a doubt his former boss order Timochenko to torture him he always had a deep respect for him before that.

_ Vialitsyn was killed during a mission two years ago in Novgorod, Charlie said. He was with Avilov and Vikachev, and the circumstances of his death are quite fishy. The report mission says he suffocated and died of a heart attack after running from the target's warehouse. Avilov was appointed commander two weeks after that.

Kestrel nodded numbly. Avilov's promotion was not a surprise, he was power-hungry and ruthless.

_ And what can you tell us about Valentina Stepankova? And Igor Kossiak?

Kestrel put his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, and tried to block the memories and images that were flooding his mind. He concentrated on the questions and exhaled, then said with a muffled voice:

_ Valentina Stepankova was my supervisory agent. She was in charge of four operatives, a usual Voron team. In normal missions we were a team of two with a backup team, that's how Voron was doing. My usual partner was also my best friend, Ivan Kossiak. Igor Kossiak is his twin brother, and was in the other team of Valentina. Ivan has been killed a short time before my joint operation with Archer. Another death I couldn't prevent.

He took a shaky breath, and grabbed the bottle of vodka, not bothering to pour a shot in his glass this time. He drank straight from the bottle, wishing the burning liquid would stop the tears running down his cheeks. He slammed the now empty bottle on the table and added:

_ I spoke with Igor Kossiak when I was back to Russia after I left you. He has always suspected his partner of having killed his brother. I couldn't do this mission since I was already waiting for Archer, and Ivan had to team up with his brother's partner. Leonid Avilov.

Kestrel felt hatred growing in his chest, and he got to his feet. He stumbled a little, but he had to walk a few paces to calm himself and focus on the questions that would follow. He knew these were only a warm-up before the real painful ones, and he had to brace himself.

He went to the large bay window and looked outside. He realized the view was the same than his bedroom's one, but he couldn't see the waterfall from here. He opened the bay a few inches and inhaled the cold air, clearing his mind and sharpening his senses. Then he heard Sam's uneasy voice, and thought that Grim hadn't had the courage to make him feel worse.

_ Kestrel, can you tell us what Timochenko was planning to do with you?

He shut the bay window but stayed standing before it and put his boiling forehead against the cold window. His fists clenched in spite of himself as yells of pain and memories of gruesome experiments and vicious tortures rushed forward, and he heard Timochenko's voice, speaking in his mind about his crazy projects.

_ He wanted to make a super-army with the Voron agents. Make us stronger and faster, and docile, questionless operatives. Vialitsyn didn't agree with him, but he let him torture me, ignoring that Timochenko was experimenting on me.

He remembered the experiments and the pain so well he almost felt them again, and smashed his fists on the bay window. Fortunately the glass didn't break, but he felt the window vibrate so much he knew it had been close. Then he turned round and strode towards the low table, avoiding the team's gaze, and grabbed the bottle, but it was empty. He tossed it violently in the corner in his frustration, and ran to the cupboard behind Sam and Grim. Someone had put another bottle of vodka in there, and he wrenched it open and hastily gulped down several mouthfuls.

Then he went to his armchair and collapsed onto it, bottle still in hand, ignoring the team's pained expressions. His gaze was starting to blur, but the pain was still vivid and sharp in his mind. He heard Sam's voice again.

_ Do you have any idea why Timochenko put the microchip in your head?

Kestrel had, and the idea was not good news for his sanity. He drank another shot of vodka and said, noticing that his voice was becoming unsteady and slow:

_ Before he put me in the coma during which you rescued me, he tortured me for weeks. He wanted to break my spirit and make me cooperate. He almost succeeded. All my limbs had been broken with a steel baseball bat, I had been punched so much I couldn't think straight, my nails had been ripped off, and so on. I was so much in pain that I relented and agreed to help him take revenge on his boss. I didn't know at the time it was O'Brian, the Meggido chief, and I didn't know what it would involve. All I knew is that it would stop my suffering. So he put me in a coma, and I suppose he put the microchip in my head then. But when he woke me up, I resisted again, and he was so mad he throttled me. He stopped just in time, I was about to die. But he told me that he was not done with me and that Voron had some questions about Third Echelon. So the torture went on, with periods of coma, until you saved me.

A thick silence followed his statement, and he drank several mouthfuls from his bottle. He knew he was close to falling into the black hole again and couldn't wait to do so. Next to him Briggs asked him with a voice full of concern:

_ Are you sure Timochenko was talking about O'Brian and not Vialitsyn?

Kestrel shook his head. He couldn't be sure. He looked at Sam, but his face was blurred. Grim then breathed heavily and sat forward, indicating the wall with the image on.

_ Kestrel, can you have a look at that list and tell us if we can trust the people on it? On this list are some Voron members that the scheme says are too loyal, and you're one of them.

Kestrel turned his gaze towards the projected screen but couldn't read the tiny print.

_ I'm sorry, I can't see the names.

_ I'll read them for you, Briggs offered. Valentina Stepankova, can we trust her?

_ Yes.

_ Igor Kossiak, Voron's second-in command.

_ Yes.

_ Kirill Globa.

_ No.

_ Maria Lebedeva.

_ Don't know her.

_ Josef Marinov.

_ Yes.

_ Cristina Nikonova.

_ Yes.

_ And Dmitri Siantchuk.

_ No.

_ Why can't we trust Globa and Siantchuk? Sam asked him.

_ You won't need to trust them, Kestrel said, the pain fading at last, replaced by a numbness in his limbs and mind. Alpha and I killed them. They were in the team that tortured me.

_ Oh, okay, Sam said, sounding stunned. Then we'll think about contacting Stepankova and Kossiak to warn them of the treason of Avilov, along with several Voron ops.

_ We must also discover who helped Fedorova infiltrate the CIA, Charlie said grimly, and see if it's the same person who gave us fake bullet-proof vests.

_ What? Sam shouted, jarring Kestrel out of the reverie he was slowly falling into. Fake bullet-proof vests?

_ Yeah, Charlie said. Instead of the kevlar and ceramic plates, you had aluminium plates. No wonder you've been wounded, Sam. And you were lucky not to have been killed.

_ I'm gonna strangle this Fedorova with my bare hands, Sam grumbled.

_ No, Kestrel mumbled thickly, his eyes closing in spite of himself. She's mine. She'll have to pay for what she did to me. And to Alpha's body.

His last words came out as a murmur, and his head slumped back once again on his armchair.

_ Kestrel! Briggs exclaimed next to him and shook his arm, but it was too late.

Kestrel's hand opened, dropping the bottle of vodka on the carpet, and he fell in the dark, happily leaving his tortured conscience and pained body behind him, if only for a few minutes.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

When Kestrel awoke, it was pitch dark except some dim light from the fire in the stove. He was lying on a sofa, a blanket on him like in the afternoon, and he felt a déjà-vu. Like then he had trouble opening his eyes, but unlike then he now had a major headache. He sat up and noticed a form reclining on the armchair opposite him, snoring softly. He smiled when he recognized Briggs' steady breathing and quietly got to his feet. He tiptoed out of the living room and went to the kitchen.

The sheer vastness of the room surprised him, and he felt a pang of envy when thinking about the tiny space he had to cook in his apartment. There a large working table could easily sit twelve guests, and every cooking tool and machine he could think of was displayed on the cupboards lining the walls. Against the far wall he saw the giant cook stove, and wondered if he would be able to use it. But right now he was hungry and went to look in the oven. And like Sam had promised him, a huge plate of potatoes and pork chops was waiting for him.

He put it in the microwave oven and looked at the clock next to it. It was two in the morning, but he didn't feel remotely sleepy. He was wide awake, and not feeling too depressed. The oven beeped once, and he took out his plate, found some cutlery and mustard in the fridge, and tucked in. He wolfed down his plate in a few minutes, and drank large glasses of water. He didn't feel any need of alcohol, and that was fine by him.

Then he grabbed an apple and munched it thoughtfully, his mind wandering. He thought about Alpha, Voron, the war scheme, Fourth Echelon... It seemed to him everything was unreal, like in a dream. He felt like an outsider, like someone else had lived his life. He knew this state of mind was one of the after-effects of his alcohol abuse, and that when he would come back to reality it would be very hard and painful. But for now he was feeling cool and relaxed, and thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. He washed up his plate, cutlery and glass, then decided to have a nice stroll in the woods.

He went back in the hall and saw with delight his thick vest hanging on the coat-rack. He put it on and shot a glance in the living room. Briggs was still fast asleep. He then carefully opened the door and went outside.

The cold hit him hard, but he was used to it, being Russian-born. And fortunately for him, the wind had died and the snow had stopped falling. But the snow on the ground was knee-deep, and he advanced slowly but steadily. The bright moonlight cast a faint light around him, and he could see his surroundings very accurately. He headed towards the clearing with the waterfall, and soon reached the cluster of rocks. The site was beautiful, with the water running swiftly, emitting a whistling sound before falling in a natural well in the center of the rocks.

He sat on one of the rocks, listening to the soft music of the water, peering through the high trees and breathing deeply the fresh air. He felt so alive and relaxed it startled him, but stayed on his rock and enjoyed the blissful moment. Fifteen minutes passed by. Then Alpha's image came in his mind, and the pain rushed back, fresh and strong. He wanted to cry out his anguish, but with a huge effort he stayed silent, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. The magical moment was gone, he was back in his body and mind.

He came back to the chalet and quietly opened the door. He saw that Briggs was no longer on the armchair and wondered if the ops was looking for him. Feeling slightly guilty, he took out his vest and hung it back on the coat-rack. Then he heard footsteps in the stairs and turned to face Briggs and Sam, coats on and looking angry.

_ Kestrel, where the hell have you been? Briggs murmured, looking furious. I was worried out of my mind!

_ I just went to see the waterfall and have some fresh air, he explained calmly. I'm sorry to have worried you.

_ Well, don't leave the house in the middle of the night again without a note, please! Briggs said, his eyes shooting daggers at him.

Kestrel turned his gaze towards Sam, who was looking relieved and annoyed at once.

_ I'm sorry, Kestrel repeated to him.

Finally Sam nodded with half a smile, then said quietly:

_ It's okay. Just don't do it again, please, Kestrel. We were very worried.

_ It won't happen again, Kestrel acknoweledged, poker-faced.

But in his guts he felt pain and dismay tear him apart. The team didn't trust him anymore, and knowing it crushed what was left of his courage. He walked past Sam and Briggs, not looking at them, and went upstairs in his bedroom. There he collapsed on the armchair next to the window, letting out the desperate tears welling up in his eyes. He drew a shaky breath, then whispered, calling out in anguish:

_ Alpha!

He stayed awake, unable to sleep, fighting hard his urge to drink alcohol again. He paced his room, tried to lie down, opened the window to breath the cold air, but nothing appeased his pain and withdrawal. He ached to go and see Dr Collins and ask him for a sleeping tablet, but didn't want to disturb anybody else. Sam and Briggs had made it clear that he was worrying them enough.

Finally, around six o'clock, he couldn't stand it anymore. He silently went to the kitchen and searched for the liquors. He found the four bottles of vodka and took two, then went back to his bedroom and locked the door behind him. He didn't want to be a dead weight and a cause of annoyance for Fourth Echelon anymore. He put the vodka on the desk and went to his bed. He lifted the mattress and groped for his pistol he hid there. His fingers closed around the cold steel of the barrel, and he straightened up, looking at the Beretta. He wondered if he would have the guts to pull the trigger to shoot himself.

_ I need some incentive, he murmured. But I won't live without you any longer, Alpha. It's too hard and painful.

He unscrewed the silencer and threw it on the bed. No need to make it discreet, he thought. Then he grabbed the table and dragged it to the window, and sat on the armchair. The pistol and two bottles of vodka lying in front of him, he emptied his mind, chasing his fears, his survival instinct, his pain, his worst memories away. Then he opened a bottle and drank it as fast as he could. The burning vodka was like a bitter reminder of the sorrow he left behind him with Voron in Russia, and the P4x Storm on the table a sample of the life he had chosen in America with Fourth Echelon: harsh, violent and meaningless.

He drank the other bottle, forcing his revolted stomach to accept the huge quantity of alcohol, and finally set the empty bottle on the desk. Then he took the pistol with a trembling hand, looking at it intently, trying to convince himself it was the best choice. He shut out the memory of Alpha making him promise to live for her, and whispered:

_ Извините меня, лювбимая. _(I'm sorry, my love)_ It's too hard without you. And the team doesn't trust me anymore. I'm a wreck. I see no light. Please forgive me.

Somebody knocked softly on the door, but he ignored them, staring out the window at the waterfall. The view was so beautiful it wrenched his heart to look at it without the woman he loved and missed so much. Lost in his thoughts, knowing the moment was approaching, he didn't notice Grim's voice calling him out and her knocks, more and more urgent.

_ Kestre? Kestrel, you there?

The door handle shook, and Grim probably realized the door was locked. Kestrel dimly heard her shouts and the loud banging, but he was beyond this reality. He slowly raised his Beretta, putting the barrel against his right temple, and hoped this time the bullet in his head would do the job. No more coma and pain for him.

On his right the door opened in a crash, but he was concentrating so hard on the waterfall he didn't turn his gaze. Then he shut his eyes, bringing back Alpha's smile in front of his closed eyelids, and slowly started to pull the trigger.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Grim couldn't sleep. At 2.20 am Briggs had knocked urgently on the door, saying that Kestrel had disappeared, and she and Sam had hastily got up. Sam and Briggs had run into Kestrel at the door of the chalet, but Grim was worried. She had been on the threshold of her bedroom when Kestrel had stormed upstairs without noticing her, and the anguish showing on his face was troubling her. Sam and she had gone back to bed, but while Sam quickly fell asleep again she twisted and turned, too disturbed to sleep.

The clock was showing 6.07 am when she heard movement in the stairs. The footsteps were light and discreet but hurried, and she knew it was Kestrel again. She dreaded what the ops was up to, and feared he was searching for alcohol. She quietly got up and cracked the door open. And sure enough, five minutes later he went past her door, carrying two bottles of what she was certain was vodka. She didn't see his expression as it was pitch dark in the chalet, but she knew he was not feeling good.

She hesitated for a few minutes, then walked back to the bed and gently shook Sam's shoulder.

_ Sam? Sam!

He started and opened his eyes in alarm.

_ Grim? What's wrong? Kestrel...?

_ He's got two bottles of vodka, she said, her voice trembling. I fear he's going to drown his brain, Sam.

_ You're sure it was vodka? he sat up, concern on his face.

_ Yes, it was alcohol.

Sam locked eyes with her, and she saw his worry. Kestrel was his protégé, and he cared much about him. And his breakdown was tormenting the man she loved.

_ I'll go and see him, she said at last. I've wanted to talk to him for a long time.

She put a sweat shirt and jeans over her pyjamas, and headed for the door, grabbing her smartphone on the nightstand. Sam got up behind her and dressed up.

_ Call me if you need me, he said simply.

She nodded and ran up the stairs to the third floor. She knocked on the door, no answer. She knocked again and called the ops out.

_ Kestrel? Kestrel, you there?

Still no answer. She thought it strange since she knew he was awake, and tried the door handle. She realized with horror that he had locked himself up, and banged on the door, calling him louder, waking the whole team in her fear.

_ Kestrel! Open the door! Kestrel!

She heard Sam, taking two steps at a time, coming next to her, and Briggs sprinting out of his room, putting a T-shirt on. Sam gently shoved her aside, nodded to Briggs, and the two of them took three steps back, then ran towards the door. Their shoulders rammed the door which burst open, and Grim followed them in the bedroom.

She saw Kestrel sitting on his armchair, gazing out of the window, and pointing a pistol to his head. He was really going to commit suicide, she thought desperately. In front of her Sam and Briggs looked paralyzed. In haste, she took out her smartphone and searched for Alpha's recording. She played it just as Kestrel shut his eyes and his finger started to pull the trigger.

_ Micha!

Alpha's voice filled the room, startling the other people around her, and making Kestrel jump. He abruptly opened his eyes and turned his head, frantically searching the source of the voice. She turned her smartphone towards him, and in the recording Alpha called him out again.

_ Micha!

Grim saw his eyes widening, but the pistol was still against his temple. She hoped the recording would work. Alpha had had trouble making it two years ago, often dissolving into tears, but she had known that someday Kestrel would need it. And Grim thought that Alpha had always been right about the man she had loved so deeply.

_ Micha, please listen to me. If Grim ever plays that recording, it'll be because I'm dead and you're about to make a huge mistake. I love you, Micha, and I don't want you to do what you're about to do.

Kestrel slowly let his hand fall and got to his feet, but he still had the pistol in his hand. Grim walked past Sam and Briggs, stunned, and gestured at them to take a few steps back to let Kestrel come nearer. He strode right in front of her, looking intently at the black screen of her smartphone, disbelief, delight, pain and shame on his face, tears shining on his cheeks.

_ Micha, I want you to think about something important. You promised me to live for me. And I know first-hand how life can be hard and desperate with pain and solitude. But please think about me. Even if I'm dead, I would have given anything, even accept to suffer like I do now all my life to be alive and with you. So please don't betray me. I know it's hard, and it will always be hard. But you're not a coward, Micha.

At long last Kestrel's hand opened, and the Beretta fell on the floor. He reached for the smartphone, and Grim let him take it with shaking hands. Then she slowly crouched and grabbed the pistol, handing it to Sam who pocketed it with a grateful look for her while Alpha's voice still resonated through the loudspeaker.

_ One last thing before I stop this recording. I want you to remember that I love you, and always will until the end and even beyond. And even if I'm not around anymore, I know I'll always be in your heart, like you are in mine. You're the one keeping this strong feeling alive, Micha. I trust you to keep it alive until we're together again, but when your time comes, and not by your hand. Please fight, Micha. Live. Be alive for me. I love you.

The recording stopped, and Grim watched Kestrel apprehensively. He was trembling from head to foot, silently crying, and inhaling sharp, jerky breaths. Behind him, Grim saw that the two bottles of vodka were empty and she felt panic rising in her throat, but she was afraid to react badly. But Kestrel was having more and more difficulty to breathe, and she saw him stagger on his feet, his left hand clutching his chest. She caught him and yelled:

_ Briggs! Dr Collins!

Briggs ran out of the room while Sam went next to Kestrel, and Grim and him helped the ops lie onto his bed. Soon Dr Collins ran into the room and went to examine Kestrel.

_ He's hyperventilating, he said. Too much alcohol?

_ Yes, Sam said, and he was about to commit suicide.

_ I played a recording Alpha made, Grim said hurriedly.

_ Okay, I understand, the doc nodded.

He grabbed the chair next to the wall and sat right next to Kestrel's chest. Then he started to speak in a very soft voice, very calmly, while massaging the ops' ribcage.

_ Agent Kestrel, I want you to relax. I want you to imagine yourself in a safe place, with the people you like, and at peace with yourself. I want you to picture a calm river, and you're lying in a boat, under the sun, and the river is gently rocking beneath you...

Grim could see that Kestrel's jerky breathing was slowly becoming easier and deeper, and the ops' eyes closed. His body started to relax, his hands lost their clawed aspect, and he fell asleep with the gentle monologue of their doctor in less than twenty minutes. Dr Collins went on massaging his chest a few more minutes, then gently removed his hands. Kestrel was fast asleep, his features relaxed.

Grim, relieved of the pressure crushing her guts, dissolved into silent tears. Sam gently hugged her and steered her towards the door. She saw Dr Collins sit in Kestrel's armchair, and Briggs closed what was left of the door when the three of them exited the room. Charlie and the nurse Anderson were waiting for them on the landing, anxiety on their faces. But Sam told them that Kestrel was safe, and they nodded in relief. The nurse went back to her bedroom, but the team went downstairs to the kitchen, where Briggs prepared a strong coffee.

They drank in silence, and Grim slowly regained composure. But Kestrel's suicide attempt had revealed the seriousness of his state, and she was the first to speak.

_ What are we going to do? He was about to shoot himself.

_ Thank God you and Alpha made that recording, Sam said grimly. Without it he would be dead.

_ Will he be able to stay as an operative? Charlie asked. Looks like he can't.

_ He will, Briggs countered him angrily. He's depressed, but he's still a very good ops. A few days of calm and he'll be better. He's strong, he'll come over it.

_ What a comfidence, Sam said with a smile. I agree with you, Briggs. I think that Alpha's recording will do the trick. He'll be back on the right tracks in no time. We just have to cut him some slack in the meantime.

_ I agree too, Grim said, knowing she was right. But I don't think he'll stop drinking like that. We'll have to buy vodka again before he can control his addiction.

_ We have two boxes in the basement, Sam said. Don't worry. And the snow is high, I think we're stuck here for a while. No shopping malls, he rejoiced.

_ Tonight is New Year's eve, Charlie said sullenly. What a party it'll be!

Grim looked at the tech and saw his suffering. He had sustained a major heartache, and the wound was still sore. But she knew he'd come over it too. So she decided to organize a nice meal to put aside their mission and entertain the team for an evening.

_ You're right, Charlie, she said brightly. It'll be a major party! We'll party tonight and hope the coming year will be better than this one! So, no work today, it'll wait till next year. And all of you will give me a hand on this matter, including Kestrel when he wakes up.

She looked around her and saw the stunned faces turning into more or less wide grins. Sam's hand squeezed hers and smiled broadly, nodding enthusiastically. Charlie didn't look convinced but shrugged, not hostile to the idea. And Briggs, after a moment of surprise, grinned too and said:

_ That's great. I like the idea. So what do we do?

_ First of all, we sleep, Grim said. We all need a few more hours, or free time if you're rested, but personally I'm not. Then we'll see.

_ Right, Sam said. Let's have breakfast at 9.30 am. Does it suit you?

Grim nodded in agreement and saw Briggs and Charlie hardly stifling a yawn.

_ Motion passed, she smiled. See you later.

She got up, leaving her mug on the table for later, and headed towards her bedroom. The men were closely following her, and when she entered her bedroom she felt utterly exhausted. Sam helped her put out her sweatshirt and pants, and she collapsed on the bed. She fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

When Kestrel awoke from a dreamless sleep, he saw that the daylight was bright. He looked at his OPSAT and read the time: 1.37 pm. Incredulous, he read it a second time, but the time hadn't changed. Then he felt his stomach rumbling loudly, confirming that it was really lunchtime. He got up and started to put on the boots that someone had removed, but thought out of it. He needed a shower. So he took his toiletries and headed for the bathroom opposite his bedroom and spent a good ten minutes under the hot water, his mind truly in peace.

He had wanted to die, but a miracle had happened. Alpha, insightful as always, had foreseen his suicide attempt and saved him yet another time. He was grateful towards Grim, and the team who had been so worried about him. He swore to himself not to be so stupid again, and never let his courage leave him in such a depressed state. He would live for Alpha, his love for her, and for him.

But his addiction was another matter. He wanted to stop drinking, but he knew it would be very hard. So he decided to do it gradually, one step at a time. And he wanted to talk to Sam about it. He needed advice, and his boss was also a good listener.

He turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower stall. When he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he was bewildered to see the bags under his bloodshot eyes and his beard growing wildly. At that moment he truly realized the depth he had sunk in, and told himself firmly that he would soon come out of it. He took his clippers and cut his beard neatly, like Alpha used to love it, and the thought warmed his heart. As for the eyes, he promised himself to sleep more and soon leave the alcohol behind.

Then he went back in his room and chose casual clothes, a polo shirt, dark cargo pants and a navy blue sweatshirt. He checked his looks in the big mirror on the door of the wardrobe, and smiled slightly. Alpha would have told him he was handsome, dressed like that, and he wanted to honor her memory.

When he descended the stairs to the first floor, he suddenly felt dizzy and caught his foot in the carpet that was covering the wooden stairs. With a strangled yelp he fell face-first, avoiding the ramp at the last second and falling heavily on his left shoulder. But the momentum of the fall made him tumble down the stairs, and he abruptly landed in the hall, the wind knocked out of him, with a grunt of pain. He inhaled sharply and swore loudly:

_ Хренов ковер! _(Damn carpet!)_

He was taking stock of his limbs when Grim and Sam ran out of the kitchen and stopped next to him.

_ Kestrel! Are you all right? Sam asked him, concern on his face.

_ Yes, I think so, but I'm not sure about my left shoulder and my right ankle, he admitted.

Sam offered him his free hand and helped him on his feet. His ankle was okay, but the shoulder ached. Thankfully it wasn't dislocated or broken. He felt it with a grimace and swore again:

_ Чëрт возьми! _(Shit!)_

_ The shoulder? Grim asked him, worried.

_ It hurts like mad, but it's okay, he said.

_ That's reassuring, Sam said. And even more since I wear our only sling.

His right arm was still tightly pressed against his chest, and Kestrel knew he couldn't wait to heal and have the use of his arm back.

_ Are you hungry, Kestrel? Grim asked him.

_ I'm starving, he said.

_ Lucky boy, Grim made hamburgers and French fries, Sam winked at him, and Briggs has not eaten all of them yet.

_ I heard you, Sam!

Briggs' indignant voice came out of the kitchen, and Sam, grinning broadly, beckoned at Kestrel to follow him in the room. When he entered, the ops saw Dr Collins, Nurse Anderson, Briggs and Charlie seated around the huge table, eating their share. Sam indicated him a chair, and Kestrel saw that a plate and some cutlery had been set for him. He felt warmth growing in his chest, he felt wanted and part of the team.

Dr Collins was looking carefully at him and asked him:

_ Are you all right, agent Kestrel? Did you fall down the stairs?

_ Yes. I'm okay, but my shoulder hurts.

_ Why did you fall?

_ I felt dizzy on the landing of the second floor, he confessed, feeling his cheeks hot with shame.

_ I see. Then after lunch I want you to sit on your favourite armchair and have a nap, or at least an hour of quiet before doing anything else. Agreed?

Kestrel nodded obediently. Then Grim served him with two hamburgers and a large amount of fries, and he ate it all in no time. He helped himself with soda, and felt Sam's stare on him. He knew his boss was wondering when he would walk to the liquor cupboard, but for the moment his addiction was leaving him alone, and it was fine by him.

While they were eating the lemon cheesecake that Grim had made, she was explaining to them the party she would organize for the evening, and gave work to everybody, even the doc and the nurse. But Kestrel felt a great pride and a lot of gratitude when she turned towards him and said:

_ And I would be delighted if you'd accept to cook a wonderful dinner for us, Kestrel. You're the best chef we have with Sam, but sadly he won't be able to help you.

_ I would if the doc agreed to let me take off this bloody sling, Sam pretended to grumble.

_ No way, Commander Fisher, Dr Collins said adamantly. You're not healed yet.

_ Doc, I've told you a million times: please call me Sam.

_ Okay, I'll try, Comm... Sam.

_ Good, Sam winked at Kestrel. So will you cook for us, Kestrel? Please?

Kestrel saw with surprise all the team's imploring eyes on him, and he blushed. They were not judging him, and it seemed that his suicide attempt had never happened. He rejoiced inwardly, but kept his expression neutral for a few more seconds. Then he let out a smile and said:

_ Then you'll be treated to a Russian menu tonight.

_ Yes! Charlie shouted happily, no industrial food from Briggs!

_ Hey! Briggs protested, I forbid you...!

_ Shut up, you two! Sam said, grinning widely. You have work, so save your energy. We'll relax today, but tomorrow we go back to more serious things, so enjoy this moment.

Kestrel saw that, like him, the team hadn't forgotten the threat of a war, and he was eager to start working against it. But on the other hand, he couldn't go down on the field while being an alcoholic. He had to stop drinking soon, and he would, he told himself firmly.

The team was rising from the table, and Kestrel said aloud:

_ Sam? Could I have a word?

Sam turned towards him with a questioning look but said immediately:

_ Of course.

_ As long as it's in the lounge, agent Kestrel, Dr Collins said before leaving the room, followed by the nurse, Charlie and Briggs.

Sam smiled to him.

_ Come, then. We'll chat next to a cozy fire. Doc's orders.

Sam led him to the living room and they sat on opposite armchairs. Kestrel took his time to speak, and saw that Sam was waiting patiently, not pushing him.

_ Sam, I need your help, he said finally.

Sam nodded and said kindly:

_ I'll help you, Kestrel. What can I do?

_ First, I want to apologize, Kestrel said with emotion. About this morning. I was in such a bad shape I thought it was my only solution. I was wrong. Thanks for everything.

_ Don't worry about it, Sam said gently. We're all very happy that you're alive and better. And I apologize for not having supported you enough that you thought you had no other choice but committing suicide. I'm very relieved you didn't pull the trigger. And speaking of it...

Sam took out Kestrel's Beretta and handed it to him. Startled, Kestrel took it with surprise and looked at Sam who said calmly:

_ I trust you, Kestrel. Never forget it.

Kestrel could only nod, forcing down his emotion. Sam trusted him, and what better proof than giving him back his gun? Kestrel cleared his throat, then said:

_ I need your help because I still want to be an operative of Fourth Echelon. I want to stop drinking.

Sam considered him very carefully, and Kestrel knew he was appraising his force of will. The old Splinter Cell had suffered much in his life too, and he was well-placed to know what he himself was feeling. At last Sam said:

_ I'll help you, Kestrel. You're still an ops of Fourth Echelon, but for now you can't go on the field. So you'll fight your addiction, and soon you'll be back on the ground with Briggs. Fortunately we're stuck here for some time, and we greatly need it. It's just your luck, and I know a good way of fighting any addiction.

_ What way?

_ Chopping wood, Sam grinned. We always need logs for the stove. So it'll be your task to take the axe and cut the logs in the shack behind the chalet. And if you feel it, you can cut down the trees around the shack, to make the wood dry for the next years. Nothing better than a good sweat to forget alcohol.

_ Thanks, Sam, Kestrel said, grateful. I'll do my best. But I can't stop abruptly, I...

_ Don't worry, I know. Do it gradually. But when you feel the urge to drink vodka, drink it in a glass rather than straight from the bottle, and try and take smaller glasses as the days pass. Soon you won't need it anymore.

_ Thanks, Sam, Kestrel repeated.

He was comfident he would succeed, with Sam's and the team's help. All he had to do was take back the control of his mind and body, and he swore to himself he would.

* * *

Chapter 25 coming soon!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

During the hour he had to spend on his armchair, Kestrel switched on the television in the lounge and lazily zapped. He watched the American news, depressing as always, and even came across some Russian channels. He watched with detached emotion the Russian news, depressing as always, and felt his eyelids grew heavy. In no time he fell asleep before Russia 24.

He dreamed he was sitting on the rock next to the waterfall near the chalet under the moonlight again, but this time he wasn't alone. A blurred figure was striding towards him, and his heart leapt in his chest. Alpha, wearing thick clothes, was smiling to him. She was as he remembered her, but before the pain of her cancer. She had her sniper rifle strapped to her back and her Fairbairn-Sykes at her side. She came just in front of him and kissed him. It felt so good! Even if some part of his mind knew it was only a dream, he felt joy and love rush in his heart, sweeping away the pain.

Then Alpha spoke, gently caressing his cheek.

_ Micha, don't ever despair again. I'll always be with you, in your heart.

She smiled and kissed him a last time, then walked away. He let her go, knowing that she was right. His love for her was strong enough to give him the courage to live on now. And when he woke up, he felt a smile on his lips. Then he heard a voice next to him.

_ What are you smiling at, you couch potato?

Kestrel turned his head and saw Briggs, perched atop a chair, cleaning the bay window with a disgruntled expression on his face. He choked back his laugh and said, as straight-faced as he could:

_ I saw Alpha in my dream.

_ Lucky you to sleep! I'd gladly swap our places!

_ No, thanks, Kestrel declined. I've got some cooking to do.

Briggs jumped down the chair, cleaning rag and squirt bottle still in hand, and walked towards him. Kestrel got up and looked at his friend's serious look.

_ Are you okay? Briggs asked him.

_ Yes, he said honestly. I feel a lot better. But I'll be really okay when I stop drinking.

Briggs nodded then said:

_ I hope you know I'm there for you, mate. I was worried last night, but it's over now. You can rely on me, anywhere, anytime.

_ I know, Briggs, Kestrel acknoweledged seriously. Thanks. Same for me.

_ That I know, Briggs winked. I trust you to cook us something delicious for tonight, so we'll be too full and sleepy to dance on the music Charlie is preparing.

_ It's really a party, then.

_ Yep. But maybe it'll turn okay. I quite like that charming nurse.

Kestrel shook his head dejectedly before Briggs' dreamy expression and went to the kitchen. He searched the cupboards and the fridge to know what he had at his disposal, then took his time to decide the menu. He opted for some salmon and vodka rillettes, a borscht with Russian-style lobsters, and a vatrushka for dessert.

He started with the rillettes, as they were to be placed in the fridge for two hours before the meal, and cut the salmon. But when he opened the bottle of vodka for the recipe, he was suddenly tempted to drink a large shot. He resisted and prepared the rillettes, but the alcohol was taunting him.

So he decided to give in as Sam had suggested. He took a medium glass and poured the vodka in it, then put the bottle away in its cupboard. Then he set the glass on the table, next to the ingredients, and started to resist.

He had finished the preparation of the lobsters and the borscht was on the stove when his shaking hands kept him from continuing, and he took the glass at last. He drank it slowly, savouring the bitter taste, and drained the last drops. Then he looked at the clock on the wall.

_ Half past five, he read aloud for himself. The next shot won't be until half past nine at least, buddy, so brace yourself.

He smiled faintly, satisfied at his goal, and carried on his cooking. And when Grim entered the room at 7.10 pm, his vatrushka was in the oven, his borscht was ready and smelled great, and his lobsters were waiting to be put under the grill for a few minutes. And the rillettes were cold and looking good in the fridge.

_ Whoa, Kestrel! Grim marveled. It looks wonderful, and that smell!

_ It's a traditional Christmas menu in Russia, he said humbly. I thought it would be good for a New Year's eve too.

_ And you were right, she smiled. Are you ready to dress up?

_ Almost. My dessert is still in the oven, another couple of minutes and it'll be okay.

_ Then we'll start at eight, if it's okay with you?

_ It is, he nodded.

_ Good. I'll go and get dressed too. Dr Collins and Sam are setting the table, and Charlie should have finished the decoration by now.

She left with another smile, and he waited patiently next to the oven. Then he took the vatrushka out and put it on the window sill to cool down. And after a last look around the kitchen to check for a forgotten task, he left and went upstairs to his bedroom. He chose his best clothes to put on and took a hasty shower.

But when he got down the stairs, he felt dizzy again. Wondering what was happening to him he stopped in his tracks, not wanting to tumble down another time and break some bones. He sat on the top stair of the second floor, and leaned on the wall, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes to stop the spinning of his head and wondered if his alcohol abuses were provoking his dizziness.

At the bottom of the stairs he heard footsteps, then Sam's puzzled voice.

_ Kestrel? What's the matter?

_ Head spins fast, he answered weakly.

He heard Briggs' footsteps on the stairs above him, and in front of him Sam was ascending towards him. He felt hot and sick, and tried to control his nausea. And he was hungry. Hypoglycemia, he dimly thought.

_ Kestrel? Briggs said, gripping his shoulder. What's wrong?

_ I need two sugar cubes, please, he murmured.

_ You are in hypoglycemia, Sam noticed. Be right back.

Kestrel heard him down the stairs, in the kitchen and back again.

_ Here you go, Sam said.

Kestrel took the sugar cubes and hastily munched them. Soon he felt better, and stood up.

_ Thanks, Sam, he said gratefully. I really need to have a healthier lifestyle.

_ I couldn't have said it better, Sam said, clapping his shoulder. But the first step is realizing it, and you've done it. So you're on the right track.

Kestrel nodded, and Sam went past him to his bedroom to change clothes too. Briggs patted him on the shoulder and they went downstairs together. But while Briggs headed straight for the living room, Kestrel went to the kitchen and checked the wine. He didn't know if he was in charge of it and was hesitating before the great choice of bottles when Grim caught up with him, wearing a black dress with glitters on the collar and sleeves, high-heeled shoes, makeup and jewelry.

Kestrel whistled inwardly. Sam was truly a lucky man to have his love next to him, and so beautiful. But he himself didn't feel lonely. The love for Alpha in his heart was strong and comforting.

_ Grim, he said simply, you'll make Sam have a heart failure, dressed like that.

_ No, she smiled, he'll just go head over heels, don't worry.

_ About the wine...

_ I can choose, if you like. I like French wine.

_ That would be great. I'm not a connoisseur of wine.

She bent on the cupboard and made her choice. She put the white wine in the fridge and opened the red one, pouring it in a large crystal carafe to "make it breathe".

In the meantime Kestrel checked the clock, then put his lobsters in the cold oven, waiting for the last moment to switch it on, and retrieved his vatrushka from the window sill. The cold outside had done the trick, his dessert would be cool when served.

And when Grim had finished with the wine, Kestrel reached in his pocket and said:

_ I have your smartphone, handing it to her.

_ I've almost forgotten all about it, she admitted, putting it on the table.

_ Thanks, he said, his voice full of emotion. I've played Alpha's recording another time, but it deleted itself right afterwards.

_ She told me she'd do something like that, Grim said, obviously fighting her emotion too. She didn't want you to mull over it and forget to live.

_ She was right, as always. I miss her.

He felt a little pain in his heart, but it was bearable, and he wanted to have this pain. If one day it faded, then it would mean he was forgetting his love for her, and that was a thing he didn't want at all.

He saw that Grim in front of him was on the verge of tears, and forced a smile.

_ But she'll always be there with us. And now, please call the team. It's eight o'clock sharp, and my lobsters are impatient to get grilled.

She smiled too, and they went to the living room, extravagantly decorated for a party, courtesy of Charlie who had done a truly horrible job with kitschy disco balls, festoons and confetti all around the place. But the team was there, waiting for them in the lounge, and smiling at them. And Kestrel, for the first time since several years, felt he was home at last.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

New Year's eve passed in a blur for Sam. They had pre-dinner drinks with excellent small appetizers Kestrel hadn't forgotten to make, and Sam noticed with relief that his ops was drinking apple juice in spite of the bottle of vodka on the low table.

Then the meal was simply fabulous. Sam, who knew how to cook, appreciated Kestrel's work and the time he had spent in the kitchen to cook such a feast.

_ Kestrel, only one word: thanks! It was delicious and wonderful!

_ Yes, thank you so much! Grim added, smiling at the blushing ops.

Sam turned to look at her, and still couldn't realize her beauty in her clothes. He loved the dress and the shoes, the jewelry and the makeup, she was so gorgeous! And he was happy to love her and enjoyed seeing her like that. And he cursed his wound and his arm in the sling for the millionth time. He wanted to hug her tightly with both arms, caress her and...

_ Sam? Grim was calling him softly. Where are you? On the moon?

_ Somewhere like that, yeah, he said, locking eyes with her and making her blush furiously.

A ringing broke the awkward moment, and he saw Briggs take out his smartphone, checking the number and frowning.

_ It's my friend in Mexico, he muttered so only Sam could hear him and got up.

Unfortunately for him, Kestrel's hearing was sharp beyond average human abilities, and he turned abruptly towards Sam.

_ What did he say? His friend in Mexico?

Sam, uneasiness creeping in his guts, reluctantly nodded and confessed the truth to his ops.

_ Briggs phoned a CIA friend in San Cristobal after... what happened to you. He asked him to try and...

Sam gulped down his saliva and steeled his nerves before the anxious expression of Kestrel.

_ … and retrieve Alpha's ashes. But when his friend arrived, the place was swarming with policemen. Apparently, Vikachev's body had disappeared, but he couldn't tell Briggs about Alpha's remains. So he discreetly started an inquiry, and was to phone Briggs as soon as he had news.

Kestrel looked thunderstruck. Sam feared he would lose control, but he saw with bewilderment his ops close his eyes and hang his head, breathing slowly and deeply. He was doing sophrology again, Sam realized, noticing with delight that this technique was actually working wonders on him and his boiling temper.

Briggs returned, and Sam saw Kestrel look intently at his fellow ops. But Briggs' face was dark. He noticed Kestrel's stare and shot an inquiring look at Sam, who said grimly:

_ Tell us, Briggs.

_ My friend has formal evidence that Alpha's ashes have been stolen. The Mexican medical examiner had gathered up the ashes in a bag to analyze them, but during the trip to the morgue they disappeared.

_ Fedorova, Kestrel said immediately, hatred on his face. I'd bet anything.

_ Me too, Sam said. But why steal them? What can she do with ashes? That doesn't make sense.

_ It could, Kestrel said harshly, if she thinks it'll give her leverage on me. But she won't succeed. Alpha's dead, and she wouldn't forgive me if I chose to have burnt ashes rather than Fedorova's skin.

Sam stared at his ops with pride. Kestrel had almost completely recovered his force of will, and his determination was as strong as ever. And even if Sam saw him pour himself a shot of vodka and drain it, it was the first glass in the whole evening. What an improvement, he thought. He really was healing.

Kestrel poured himself another glass, but this time he raised it in front of him and said aloud:

_ To Alpha, and the downfall of the Voron traitors and Meggido!

Sam raised his glass of red wine along with all the guests, and they all drained their alcohol. The nurse Anderson coughed violently after that, and a fussing Briggs insisted to give her water. Grim placed her hand on Sam's one, and he saw her distress and worry. But he kissed her softly and turned towards Kestrel. His reaction would give the following of the events.

Kestrel seemed lost in his thoughts, but when he looked around him he saw every gaze on him. Sam saw him force a smile and say:

_ We're not in the new year yet, he said. Work and vengeance will be for tomorrow. Let's party tonight. Charlie? Where is your music?

_ Right there, the tech answered at once, springing to his feet. You're gonna love it!

_ I hope it's not... Sam started.

A loud bass guitar drummed in the sound system, followed by even louder instruments and a high-pitched voice, and Sam groaned.

_ AC/DC! Charlie yelled. Yeah!

_ That's good, shouted Briggs, getting up and starting to dance, inviting the nurse to join him in the space between the table and the sofa.

Dr Collins turned towards Grim and asked her, smiling:

_ Do you want to dance a rock, Anna?

_ Sure, she said, and they both got up too.

Sam, disgruntled, shook his head and turned back to the table. Only Kestrel was still there, as Charlie was playing the DJ. Sam watched him pour a shot of vodka in his glass, raise it once more and murmur something he couldn't hear over the deafening music. Then the ops drained his glass and helped himself to another shot.

Sam, not wanting to let him drink alone, took the whisky and vodka bottles and beckoned at Kestrel to take their glasses and follow him to the lounge. There he sat, sipping his whisky, while Kestrel finished the vodka and went to fetch another bottle. The Splinter Cell knew his ops was doing huge efforts to stop drinking, but the news about Alpha's ashes were hard to accept, and he cut him some slack.

While the last minutes of the year passed by, Sam watched Grim and Dr Collins dance rock, and he was not feeling jealous. He knew Grim loved him, and he didn't like to dance. Briggs was becoming more and more enterprising towards the giggling nurse, and soon they started kissing. Charlie was enjoying being the DJ and was quite good at it, Sam noted, even if he didn't like modern music so much. But on his usual armchair next to him, Kestrel had emptied the second bottle of vodka and was completely drunk. He was trying to keep his eyes open, but Sam could see he would soon fall asleep.

Then, as a song ended, Sam heard him whisper a last thing before his head slumped back.

_ I'm not the last one standing, my love, but I swear to you it'll be the last time.

After a few seconds, Sam stood up and went to check on him. He was breathing deeply, his features calm and relaxed. Then he turned and saw Grim striding towards him. He took two steps towards her too, and they met and hugged in front of the largest sofa. She said in his ear:

_ Happy New Year, Sam.

He glanced at the digital clock behind the television, and sure enough it was indicating 0.17 am. So he bend and kissed her on the neck, then whispered in her ear:

_ Happy New Year, my love.

They kissed passionately, and Sam had an urge to go upstairs, where they would be alone for a few moments. She caught his eye and seemed to understand, because he saw a spark of desire light up in her brown eyes. She took a moment to grab the blanket under the sofa and cover Kestrel, then go and see Charlie. He looked disappointed but nodded, as Briggs and the nurse had already retreated in one of their bedrooms too. He stopped the music, and Dr Collins, who was drinking a large glass of water, wished them a happy New Year and went to bed.

Sam wanted to go straight in their room, but Grim insisted that they cleared the table first. Charlie helped them, so it only took a few minutes, as the dishes were empty and the dishwasher enormous. Then Charlie bade them goodnight, and they all went upstairs.

When alone in their bedroom, Sam looked carefully at the woman he loved so much, wanting to etch her image in his memory forever. It had been a good evening, in spite of the bad news. But he wanted to have a few more hours of quiet, the serious things could wait until dawn.

So he hugged Grim, kissing and caressing her, taking his time to remove her clothes. She was doing the same for him, and they enjoyed the moment. They made love on the bed, taking care of his wound and arm. And after a last kiss, he murmured to her:

_ I love you so much, my beloved.

Then he fell asleep as she was stroking his chest and whispering softly:

_ I love you too, my love.

* * *

It seemed to Sam he had only slept a few minutes when an outraged and powerful cry awoke him abruptly. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of furniture breaking violently and hastily jumped out of bed. Next to him Grim sat up in alarm.

_ Sam? What's happening?

_ I think it's Kestrel wrecking the lounge, he said darkly, hastily putting on some clothes, but the hell if I know why.

He shot out of the room, and Briggs, bare-chested and looking exhausted, quickly caught up with him as he ran downstairs. Kestrel was still yelling loudly, and when Sam entered the room, he saw the ops tearing apart the low table, smashing it against the wall. All the sofas and armchairs were turned over, cushions lying everywhere, and some paintings were lopsided on the walls. But so far only the low table was broken.

Kestrel was shouting in Russian, beside himself with fury, and Sam tried to understand what he was saying, not approaching him yet.

_ Этого не может вбыть! Ублюдки! Заплатите за это! _(It isn't possible! Bastards! I'll make you pay for that!)_

_ Kestrel! Sam shouted in dismay. What's the matter? Stop it!

But Briggs nudged him and pointed his chin towards the television. It was switched on, and showed the channel Kestrel was watching before falling asleep the day before. Russia 24, an all-news channel, and to Sam's horror, on breaking news a photo of Alpha was displayed, looking younger and wearing a uniform.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Sam, bewildered, couldn't set his eyes off the television. But the channel was Russian, and even he spoke the tongue a little bit, on an all-news channel it was unintelligible, and the cyrillic language was scrolling too quickly for him to read. So he turned towards Kestrel who was still busy demolishing the low table.

_ Kestrel? What do they say about Alpha?

_ Ублюдки! Сукин сыни! Я убью их всех! _(Bastards! Sons of a bitch! I'm going to kill you all!)_

_ Kestrel! Sam yelled, attracting the ops' attention at last. What do they say about Alpha? What's happening?

Kestrel, still seething, threw the pathetic remains of the low table at his feet, then sat heavily on the only armchair still standing behind him. He rubbed his face, then said with a barely controlled voice:

_ Two days ago, a Russian submarine has been attacked and blown up in the harbour of Vilyuchinsk. The police has found some evidence of a suicide bombing, and have just released the identity of their so-called kamikaze.

He gestured furiously towards the screen, then jumped on his feet again and started to hit the thick wall. Sam, knowing better than try and stop him, watched the television with rising anger. Then he heard movement behind him and saw Grim and Charlie enter the room, concern on their faces.

Without saying a thing Briggs grabbed the remote control and zapped on CNN. And sure enough, Alpha was on the breaking news there too, but under another name. Sam learned that she was called Marie Breton, was born in France in a town called Brest thirty-one years ago and that she had been in the French Navy before being reported missing during a NATO exercise in the Black Sea two years ago. And now she was being accused of being a terrorist by Russia, while France was saying that they weren't responsible for her behaviour after her desertion.

Sam was dumbstruck and furious. He exchanged a dark look with Grim, who looked ferocious, then cautiously approached Kestrel like he would have done with a wild lion.

_ Kestrel? Please stop hitting this wall. You're just punishing yourself. Save your anger and your strikes for the bastards who deserve it. You'll make them pay, and we'll help you, but don't hurt yourself instead of them, please.

Kestrel suddenly stopped his punching, breathing heavily. Sam saw that his hands were covered in blood, and nodded to Grim who disappeared in the hall. She came back a few seconds later with disinfectant and gauze, and went next to Sam, addressing the ops.

_ Kestrel? Can you show me your hands, please?

Without a word he turned towards her, still fuming, and extended his hands in front of her. His knuckles were raw and bloody, and she took her time to treat his wounds and bandage his hands. Nobody dared speak, but Sam had to take the lead. So he waited for Grim to finish, then said:

_ Right, in the kitchen, everyone.

He exited the living room first and bumped into Dr Collins and the nurse Anderson. Before the startled doctor could say a word, Sam told him darkly:

_ Please watch CNN. It's on.

Then he went to the kitchen and prepared a strong coffee. The team sat around the table, and Grim grabbed the mugs. But Kestrel went straight to the liquor cupboard and took out the opened bottle of vodka, putting it on the table in front of him but not drinking yet.

When the coffee was ready, Sam poured it in the mugs, then finally sat. He glanced at his team's faces, and he saw fury, determination, revulsion, hatred, all things he himself felt rising in him. But the time for action had come, and even if the thick snow outside prevented them from getting back to the Paladin for the moment, they would start planning the revenge right away.

_ Okay, he said at last, breathing deeply to keep his tone calm. We know this attack is the first step of Sarto's plan to start a war between the USA and Russia. France is a NATO country, and by extension the US will be blamed. By putting Alpha's ashes in the blown up submarine, Voron has done a very smart job indeed. But we won't stay there with arms crossed and let them do their little stunt without reacting. I want a battle plan.

He looked around him, not wanting to formulate his ideas yet. The team spirit was essential, and leading meant also let the others voice their proposals to feel supported. Grim was the first to speak.

_ We must find Sarto as soon as possible, and interrogate him. He'll tell us what this plan involves, and how and when he will attack the US Navy with the Chkval torpedoes.

_ By then the attack will probably have been launched, Briggs objected. We can't concentrate only on him, we must discover other sources of information.

_ And that means contacting Voron, Charlie added grimly. The loyal members we can trust. The war scheme is impossible to carry on for Sarto alone, he needs Voron. So if we can convince the loyal members to neutralize the traitors...

_ You don't understand how Voron works, Kestrel cut him abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in rage. If Avilov is the commander, then all Voron members will obey him until the end, and die for it if necessary. Hierarchy is essential, and treason means a death sentence.

Sam watched his ops with concern. Kestrel was perfectly aware that he had been sentenced to death by his former agency because he was considered a traitor, having joined Fourth Echelon and become American. But the threat didn't seem to bother him.

_ But we can try, Charlie insisted. _You_ can try, Kestrel. You still have friends inside Voron. This Igor Kossiak...

_ Заткнись! _(Shut up!)_

Kestrel jumped on his feet and stormed out of the room, and a few seconds later the front door slammed violently. Charlie, stunned, didn't speak at first, but when he did, it was with a low voice.

_ Have I said a wrong thing?

_ Charlie, Sam explained gently to him. Don't you realize that Kestrel is a traitor for Voron, and if he contacts them they'll kill him? We are treading on a minefield, any false step and he's dead. Besides, Voron is a painful reminder of his previous life he's trying so hard to forget and leave behind him.

_ I don't think it wise to contact Voron, Grim said calmly. I hope to have some info from Kobin very soon about Sarto's localization with his arms dealer friend Dos Anjos. And we can think about how Sarto has planned to launch the torpedoes on American boats. He must have some accomplices in the Russian Navy, we'll try and find them.

_ The Chkval are designed to be launched from a submarine, Sam said seriously. We must concentrate on these.

_ But Russia has a great number of submarines! Briggs complained. And we can't track every man working aboard one, that's thousands of them!

_ Simple crewmen wouldn't be involved in such a plan, Grim countered him. Only officers can access the command center and order the launch. It greatly reduces the possibilities.

_ Okay, Briggs admitted. Let's say we find these officers. What do we do? Kill them?

_ No, Sam said. Sarto will have planned a backup team, and by the time we find it it would be too late. We must find the submarine with the Chkval and booby-trap it, preferably before it's out at sea in order to avoid innocent casualties.

_ Sam! Grim objected, concern in her voice. Do you realize it means infiltrate a Russian military naval base, which will be tightly secured, and go inside the submarine, place explosives on the Chkval and leave, all without being noticed? Even for Fourth Echelon it's impossible. If Briggs is caught, he'll go to jail for several years in Siberia. But if Kestrel is caught...

She didn't finish her sentence, but there was no need. Kestrel would be killed in the best case, and probably tortured to death in the worst. But Sam knew it was their only chance to prevent World War III. If the Russian submarine shot the torpedoes on American targets, it would be too late. He had to trust his ops that they would succeed.

_ It would be better if we had some help on the Russian side, Briggs insisted. After all, the blame will be on them if one of their submarines fires on Navy boats.

Sam locked eyes with the ops and read the silent question. He nodded briefly, and said:

_ I'll talk to Kestrel about that. But now, the priority is to gather the data we need. Grim, have we got enough computers and a secure connection?

_ Absolutely, she said. We could be special forces' headquarters if needed.

_ Good. Then let's get to work. Grim, keep track of Kobin and find Sarto. We'll try and capture him. And find what you can on O'Brian and Timochenko's eventual dissension. We still must learn why the Russian torturer wanted Kestrel to take revenge on his boss. Maybe it'll influence Sarto's actions. Briggs, find the submarine and its harbour. Twenty Chkval can't vanish with magic, someone must have transported them from Vladivostok to the submarine. Charlie, hack into the net and find who the officers in league with Sarto are. If any of you needs help, I'm here. And ask Dr Collins and nurse Anderson to help you if they can. As for me, I'll think about contacting Voron with Kestrel.

_ Good luck, Sam, Charlie said grimly.

Sam nodded, and they all got up. He took a coat on the coat-rack in the hall then went outside. The wind was blowing hard, but fortunately the snow had stopped falling. But Sam had snow up to half his thigh, and he wondered where Kestrel could have gone in such an amount of snow. He looked around him and saw deep tracks heading towards the back of the chalet. Using Kestrel's tracks he slowly advanced in the snow, zipping up his coat to protect himself against the bitter cold. And soon he heard sharp noises coming from the shack behind the chalet.

When he emerged from the shadow of the house, he saw Kestrel, axe in hand, vest lying on the nearby fence, chopping wood logs. The ops was swinging the axe so brutally and looking so fierce that Sam could easily picture Kestrel's thoughts. Some heads were going to fall soon, like the logs.

Sam watched him chop down a good thirty logs before Kestrel's movements slowed down. Then he approached him from the front, not wanting to startle him and be beheaded. The ops was sweating and breathing heavily, and his hands were trembling. Sam knew it was not only from anger but also from withdrawal, and he hoped that his ops would soon stop drinking.

_ Kestrel? he asked tentatively. Can we talk?

Kestrel swung hard the axe a last time, shoving it in the chopping block, and raised his eyes to Sam's level. Sam noticed his hardened features and his cold stare, an expression he usually had only during a difficult mission or when facing despicable thugs. Then Sam knew his ops was mentally ready for any job he would ask him.

_ I'm listening, Kestrel said simply with a cold voice.

_ We need to contact Voron.

Kestrel stared intently at him for a long minute, and Sam tried to tell him silently how important this request was. He didn't want to put the life of his ops at risk, but they really needed some help from trusted Voron members if they were to infiltrate a Russian submarine. And at long last, Kestrel said:

_ Okay.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 28 coming soon!


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Kestrel and Sam went back in the chalet, and the ops had brought back an armful of logs to put in the stove. Then he followed Sam to the table of the living room, where their temporary headquarters had been set with a dozen laptops. Briggs, Grim and Charlie were already at work, but nobody had touched the wrecked lounge.

So before doing anything, Kestrel silently tidied up the room, grabbing the overturned furniture and making it stand, picking up the cushions and straightening the paintings. He felt Sam's stare on his back, but he ignored it. He had to make it up for what he did. Then he gathered the remains of the low table, wondering if he would be able to fix it. But the table was beyond repair, so he decided to make another one with the wood he had seen in the shack when he would have the time.

At last he turned towards Sam, who asked him seriously:

_ Who do you think is safest to contact?

_ Igor, he answered immediately. Igor Kossiak. He's the only one inside Voron who will probably wait for my explanations before killing me.

_ Do you know how to contact him?

_ I have his personal phone number. We have a code to know if we can communicate safely.

_ Right. Can you do it right now?

_ Let's see, Kestrel thought aloud. It's 9.49 am here in Boise, so it'll be... 7.49 pm in Moscow. A little early maybe, but it's worth a try.

_ Thanks, said Sam. Grim, is this line secure?

Sam was pointing to the phone on the table, and Grim said it was untrackable, crypted, and all sorts of technic terms. In one word, it was secure. So Kestrel strode towards the table, dialed a number and put on the loudspeaker. After four ringings, the call was picked up.

_ Да?

_ Everything comes in time to him who knows how to wait, Kestrel said in Russian.

_ Tolstoi, my favourite author. I have a book written by him in my bookcase, you're lucky.

Kestrel nodded at Sam who was listening intently, indicating that Igor Kossiak was free to talk and in a secure place.

_ I need to talk to you, Falcon.

_ What do you want, Kestrel? Haven't you done enough damage to us? Your new Yankee team killed seven of us!

_ Have you got an idea why, Falcon? Or is Eagle hiding his true motives from you?

Kestrel hadn't told Sam that Avilov's codesign was Eagle, but his boss seemed to understand.

_ All I know is I have seven men missing in action, Kossiak's angry voice said. I wonder why I should even listen to you, after all you've done. You're a traitor, Kestrel.

Kestrel shut his eyes briefly, hurt by his old friend's words. All he had ever done for Voron had been swept away, and he had only defended himself. But the anger would have to wait. He had a war to prevent.

_ Maybe I am a traitor for Voron, but Voron betrayed me by torturing me for months three years ago in Koltsovo! Kestrel snapped. But I'm not calling you to talk about it. I...

_ What did you say? In Koltsovo?

The voice had changed, anger fading, replaced by concern.

_ It was you in Koltsovo?

_ Yes, Kestrel rumbled loudly, it was me be being put in a coma and awoken to be interrogated by my fellow ops! It was me being experimented on by this Timochenko bastard! And it was me who finally got out of this hell thanks to my new agency!

A long silence followed his statement, and it allowed Kestrel to breathe deeply and make the pressure go down. Talking about it was still very painful, and he ached to have a shot of vodka. He sat down on a chair, oblivious to the team's gazes on him.

_ I didn't know it was you, Michka.

Kestrel was startled to hear the sadness and guilt in Igor's voice. Speaking of this on the phone was not easy, he would have preferred an open confrontation. And hearing his old nickname from a friend that had been so close to him was heart-wrenching. He clenched his fists on the table and focused on his mission.

_ I'm not a traitor, Igor. Voron has made me one by betraying me. And speaking of that, I have something serious to tell you.

_ I'm sorry for what Voron has done to you, Kestrel. But I won't believe another word from you.

_ Even if I told you that Eagle organized the attack on the submarine two days ago?

_ It's impossible! You're lying! It's some French kamikaze woman who did it!

_ The French kamikaze woman in question was the woman I loved! Kestrel shouted and stood up, unable to contain his furor anymore and pacing the room. And she died a year and a half ago in Fort Meade! She was buried in Baltimore, but her body has been stolen and driven to Mexico! There Hawk and Buzzard set a trap to catch me, and Hawk was torturing me when my team rescued me! Hawk shot me in the back, I almost died! He was killed, but Buzzard made the coffin of my love explode and stole her ashes! And now I learn that, even dead, she's the scapegoat for this attack! And for your information, your seven guys have been killed during the attack they launched on my team at the hospital in El Paso where I almost died!

The silence on the line was thicker than ever, but Kestrel could hear the faint breathing of Kossiak, while he himself was trying very hard to cool down. He needed to keep a cold head. At long last, he heard the voice of his old friend again.

_ Can you prove what you said?

_ If I could prove it, Buzzard would already be dead, he spat heinously. That bitch is most certainly working hand in hand with Eagle, but I'm not in Russia. But you, Falcon, you can check that what I'm saying is true.

_ I don't believe you, Kestrel, Kossiak said, but with a slight hesitation in his tone.

_ You can play the ostrich and bury your head in the sand if you want, but if I were you I would worry on your twenty missing Chkval.

_ What do you know about them?

_ I know they've been stolen, and I think they'll be used to start a war between our two countries.

_ That's true, you're American now.

_ Yes, I am, Kestrel said with pride and sadness. But I care enough for my former country to do all I can to avoid World War III.

Kossiak stayed silent, and Kestrel knew his old friend's mind was in disarray. He had known him for a decade, he knew how to interpret his long silences. Ivan, Igor's brother, had been Kestrel's best friend, so Kestrel and Igor had been close friends. But now he was Voron's second-in-command, and estranged to the ops Kestrel had become with Fourth Echelon.

_ I'll check your story, Kossiak said at last. But don't expect me to protect you if you ever set foot in Russia again.

_ Don't worry, Falcon, Kestrel said grimly. I have a good team to watch my back.

The line went dead, and Kestrel put down the phone, trembling from head to foot. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table, uncorked it and was about to drink when he thought suddenly about Alpha. She was dead, she had suffered much, and now she was being falsely accused of being a terrorist. If he sank into alcohol, who would clear her name and restore her honor?

So he recorked the bottle and put it back on the table, then went outside to the shack. He grabbed the axe and walked to a massive oak tree that was standing five meters away from the fence. He looked at it and murmured in Russian:

_ Sorry, my friend, but someone or something must bear the brunt of my anger, and better you than my team.

Then he raised his axe, thinking about Alpha, Kossiak, Voron, his addiction, the impending war, and struck. He soon lost count of his strikes, his mind set on one goal: making the tree fall. It took him forty minutes of hard work, but the tree admitted defeat. It started to waver, and Kestrel shouted:

_ Поберегись! _(Timber!)_

He swung the axe a last time, and the tree fell, making the ground vibrate around him and creating a huge geyser of snow. Sweating madly and breathing heavily, he thrust back the axe on the chopping block and made his way back to the chalet. He felt dizzy and exhausted, but he no longer ached for alcohol. Sam's remedy was working.

He went to the kitchen and found the team having a late breakfast. He joined them without a word, wiping his sweaty face on the sleeve of his dirty sweatshirt, and washed his hands in the sink. Then he took a seat and grabbed two cheese bagels and the mug of coffee Briggs was offering him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam open his mouth to speak and close it. Was he emitting bad vibes again? He ate his bagels, then took another two, wolfing them down in no time. The coffee was great, and he poured himself another mug. But the bottle of vodka was still on the table, taunting him. He didn't want to drink again, but the temptation was so strong!

Suddenly, he took his decision. He would be the lone master of his mind and body. So he rose, took out a glass from the dishwasher and filled it with vodka. The team was silently following each and every one of his movements, as if they felt that something special was happening. Then he put down the bottle on the table, and went to the far corner of the room where a door was masking the stairs leading to the basement. He went down and found the two boxes of vodka Sam had talked him about, and grabbed them. Together they were quite heavy, but he could carry them to the kitchen.

When he emerged, he saw Sam and Grim exchange a puzzled look, but they let him do his thing, obviously seeing that he was up to something. He put down the boxes near the sink, reached in his inner pocket and took out the small wallet he had on him at all times for emergencies. He grabbed two hundred dollars and gave them to Grim, who took the notes with a surprised look.

Then he opened the boxes, where six bottles were stocked in each, and very conspicuously, one by one, he emptied the bottles in the sink. Soon the twelve bottles were empty, and he went to fetch the last one on the table. He slowly emptied it too, then went to the glass he had filled. He took it firmly, raised it and said with a strong voice:

_ To my new freedom!

Then he drained his glass and slammed it on the table. And all around him, wide grins on their faces, the team broke into applause.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

After a long and blissful shower, Kestrel went down to the living room and asked Sam what he could do for the mission. Sam turned from the screen of his laptop and faced him.

_ I have two jobs for you, Kestrel, he said very seriously. First, and it's the most important, I want you to deprive yourself of alcohol as fast as you can. I know it'll be harsh, you'll suffer from withdrawal, so you'll need to often go outside and chop wood. Take your time, go running and making exercises, punch the trees with protective gloves if you want. I want you ready to go down on the field when we leave the chalet, we won't be able to do the mission without you.

Kestrel nodded. He understood and wanted the same thing.

_ And second, when you can, I want you to track down all Voron members, spy their communications and tell us who are with Avilov and who aren't. Charlie is creating a hacking program for you, you'll be able to use it whenever you want, even during the night if you can't sleep. Agreed?

_ Agreed. Thanks.

Kestrel sat on the chair next to Charlie who smiled weakly at him and told him:

_ I'm almost done with the program, if you can wait for two minutes.

Kestrel nodded, and at that moment Grim's smartphone rang. She took the call, switching on the loudspeaker.

_ Grim.

_ Hello, Ice Queen!

_ Kobin, she sighed with a grimace. Next time you call me that I stab your face and break your teeth.

_ I'm scared! the arms dealer said sarcastically. Right, to business. I found Dos Anjos.

_ Where is he?

_ In Brazil for now, he'll stay there until January 6th. And afterwards, I have an appointment with him in Venezuela on the 9th, in Los Caribes, near the Brazilian boundary. So it would be good if you don't blow up my cover and wait till, let's say, the 11th to attack him.

_ Are you sure he'll still be there?

_ Yes, he usually stays in each place for ten days.

_ And what about Sarto? Sam asked.

_ Hi, Fisher! Haven't retired yet? You should think about it, buddy!

Kestrel was fed up with Kobin's relaxed attitude, so he spoke before Sam could reply angrily:

_ Sarto, Kobin. And don't make any comment on me if you want to go back to Malta in one piece.

_ Kestrel...

Kobin's tone changed, and Kestrel glanced at Sam, silently asking for forgiveness at having interrupted him. Sam smiled, no harm had been done, and Kestrel knew Kobin wouldn't joke around with him on the line.

_ Sarto was with Dos Anjos, he said quickly, but he left him yesterday. He took a plane to Moscow under a false identity. Peter Conti, American. His new papers are real ones, not forged ones.

_ The high-ranked accomplice of Fedorova, Grim muttered. I'll track down that son of a bitch.

_ Have you heard of a Russian woman around him these last days? Kestrel asked calmly, keeping his anger under control with steady breathing.

_ Yes, he was with one called Fedorova from what I've heard. Nice hot piece of ass, but I wouldn't trust her any second.

_ Where is she now? Sam asked darkly.

_ She left for Moscow with Sarto. It seemed to me the two of them were a couple.

Kestrel was not surprised, but next to him Charlie gasped painfully. So Kestrel decided to bury the hatchet and put a hand on the tech's shoulder. Charlie jumped a little and glanced at him with disarray, but Kestrel nodded and half-smiled at him, his way to tell him wordlessly he forgave him. Charlie looked immensely relieved and offered his hand to the ops who shook it.

Next to them Sam, Grim and Briggs were looking relieved too, but Kobin was becoming impatient.

_ Hey! I don't have all day! Anything more?

_ Yeah, Briggs said. How would you do to smuggle twenty torpedoes from a secure base to a submarine?

_ Is that a test, Briggs? Okay, I'll answer you. I would find some accomplices on the base and pay them well to help me, then find some trucks and put the torpedoes in them. Then I would arrange to meet the submarine in an out-of-the-way port where no one asks anything and use a crane to put the torpedoes in the submarine. Easily done, no witnesses. Piece of cake.

Kestrel caught Briggs' stare, noticing the gloomy expression of his friend. Obviously Kobin had confirmed the method used by those who stole the Chkval torpedoes.

_ Did I pass the test? Kobin asked more urgently. I can't stay on the line, it's dangerous.

_ Yeah, thanks, Kobin, Sam said at last. We'll contact you if we need your services.

_ The latter the better, Fisher. Bye.

Grim hung up and said:

_ Okay, we have work to do.

_ Yes, said Sam. Grim, find the mole who helped Fedorova and Sarto. We'll catch them in Russia. The rest of you, keep going with your jobs. I'll ask Dr Collins to cook lunch, and we'll have a meeting at 6 pm to gather out intel.

_ Ask Molly for the lunch, Sam, Briggs said. She was a cook before being a nurse.

_ Okay, Sam said, unfazed. And Kestrel, find where Sarto is hiding in Moscow. Track Fedorova, you'll find him.

_ Copy, Kestrel said calmly. Charlie?

_ Ready, the young man said, handing him a USB key. Put it in your laptop, the program will launch itself. Type the name of your target, press enter and it will start searching immediately.

_ Okay, Kestrel said. But can you give me a computer with a Russian keyboard?

_ Er...

_ Here, Kestrel, Grim said, pointing to a laptop next to her. I bought it especially for you.

_ Thanks a lot, Grim, he said gratefully.

He could speak and read English fluently, but writing it was still difficult for him, being used to the cyrillic alphabet. He reached towards the laptop and took it. He switched it on, and inserted the USB key in a slot. Soon the program asked for a name, and Kestrel typed "Наталья Фёдорова". And the program started searching. It took five minutes, then a small dot appeared in Russia on the world map on the screen.

Kestrel clicked on it, and a window opened, displaying a sequence from a security camera in the Sheremetyevo airport twelve hours ago. It showed Fedorova, arm in arm with Sarto, walking casually to the exit. He clenched his fists but inhaled slowly and deeply. He had an important job to do. Then he typed "Леонид Авилов", and the program answered at once, showing a dot in the US. He exclaimed loudly, making everyone jump around the table:

_ Черт возьми! _(Shit!)_

 ___ Kestrel? Sam asked him. What's wrong?

_ Avilov! He's in the US, in El Paso!

_ What?

Sam hastily rose and went behind him, and Kestrel clicked on the dot. Another window opened, this time playing a recording from the lobby of the military hospital two days ago. Avilov, casually dressed, was at the counter and asking questions to a skeptical secretary. Behind him stood another man, and Kestrel zoomed on him. He recognized the man after a few seconds and felt a powerful wave of hatred and fury rise in him.

_ That's Nikolaï Dubov, Kestrel spat with such anger and resentment that the team's eyes all fixed on him with concern. Timochenko's assistant in Koltsovo. I want him dead.

_ They were in El Paso two days ago, Sam noted. Where are they now?

_ To view the next localization, Charlie explained to Kestrel, click on the right button of your mouse.

Kestrel did so, and a new window appeared. It was a file describing a cash withdrawal in Salt Lake City a few hours ago. Kestrel's mind set into action mode, he knew they would soon have company.

_ They're coming here, he said calmly. We must arm ourselves.

_ What? Grim asked in alarm. How could they know where we are?

_ They're following the Paladin, Sam said grimly, still behind Kestrel. But maybe they don't know about the chalet.

_ I wouldn't be so sure, Kestrel said. Voron's geek genius, Cristina Nikonova, is very gifted. It took all Alpha's skills to hide the two of us from her when we were on our own.

_ Our best cover is the snow, Briggs said. As long as it's still covering the ground like that, we're safe.

Kestrel couldn't help the compassionate glance he shot at Briggs.

_ Do you know that Voron ops usually train in Siberia in waist-deep snow six months a year? The weather here won't stop them.

Briggs looked mortified, but Kestrel was thinking about their defence. What could they do against his former agency? Then he had a revelation. He reached his inner pocket, where he kept his wallet and his most prized possessions: Alpha's photo and a USB key she had left him to use in case of emergency. He took the key and handed it to Charlie.

_ That's our safety ticket.

_ What's in there? Grim asked him.

_ Alpha's last present to Fourth Echelon, he said simply.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Kestrel watched thoughtfully the USB key, remembering Alpha's words in Baltimore when she had handed it to him.

_ It's a powerful but dangerous program, Micha, she had said seriously. Use it if you really are all in danger, and ask Grim and Charlie to survey it very carefully. It could take control of everything and lead you to death, so use it wisely.

_ Kestrel?

Sam's voice jarred him out of his thoughts. He said:

_ Sorry. I was lost in my memories.

_ What is it?

_ A powerful hacking program, he answered his boss. It can take control of the Paladin and all its inner systems, kind of transforming it into a huge drone.

_ Whoa, Charlie said, wait a minute! Alpha has created a program like that and hasn't said a thing about it?

_ It's because this program is very dangerous, Kestrel said grimly. The artificial intelligence is so smart it could thwart your control out of the Paladin. It must be surveyed very cautiously. But it will work without a doubt.

Charlie looked like he was holding a bomb ready to explode, and gave the key back to Kestrel.

_ Do you know how it works?

_ Roughly, yes. Basically, you insert the key in a computer and let it do the work. You enter some data, and the Paladin will take off on its own and land to the destination you choose. But Alpha warned me that Grim and you would have to check it permanently to keep it under control.

_ Okay, Grim said. I think I understand how it works. It's a risk, but it's better than be attacked by Voron here.

_ Indeed, Kestrel confirmed calmly. If they decide to strike us here, I'm not sure we'll survive.

_ Then launch the program, Sam told him. Send the Paladin to some airforce base, I'll phone the President.

Kestrel nodded and inserted the USB key in the slot next to Charlie's key while Sam got up and exited the room, smartphone in hand. In a few seconds Alpha's program took control of his laptop and opened a black window with a Russian question and a white blank for him to type the answer. He read aloud, translating the Russian words:

_ Who is using this laptop?

_ Do you have to answer? Briggs asked with a skeptical tone.

_ I trust Alpha, Kestrel said.

He typed "Кестрел", then pressed enter. The screen changed, and another text in cyrillic appeared. He translated aloud, throat squeezing with emotion:

_ Hi, Micha. If you're using this program, then the situation must be serious. Enter the answers of every question, and the Paladin will do its job. But tell Grim to monitor the data coming and Charlie to check the flight control program. This program requires eight laptops connected to the secure network and an overhead projector. Good luck, Fourth Echelon. Take care, Micha.

_ Hang on, Briggs said, we've got only six computers.

_ I have two here, Grim said, getting up and reaching inside a nearby cupboard. There they are. Charlie?

The tech was already picking up the projector on the same cupboard and installed it on the table, using the wall over the stove in the lounge as a giant screen. Grim and Briggs powered up the computers and connected them.

_ We're ready, Kestrel, Grim said at last.

He read the new text on his screen, still in Russian:

_ Ready?

He pressed the enter key. Another line appeared, and the mouse of Briggs' computer lit up blue instead of red.

_ Who is using the laptop with the blue mouse?

Kestrel typed "Брйгсь", and Briggs' mouse turned its usual red, while Sam's one turned blue. One by one, Kestrel entered the names of his teammates, and for the last three computers the blank was filled with the words "data storage". Then the question changed.

_ "Where is the Paladin?" In Boise.

He then read the following line:

_ Where do you want to send the Paladin?

_ Send it to Malmstrom Air Force base in Montana, Sam said, having returned from the hall. We have the go from the President, and are authorized to neutralize any attack from Voron on our territory in whichever way we find appropriate.

_ In other words, Briggs said, if we lay hands on one of them alive, we'll be able to interrogate him without raising any eyebrow.

_ Yeah, Sam confirmed seriously, locking eyes with Kestrel. It'll be your job, Kestrel.

_ Okay, he said simply, rejoicing inwardly at the opportunity.

He didn't really enjoy torturing people, but he would do what was necessary, and even better if it happened to be on Dubov or Avilov.

_ Right, he said, and typed the Paladin's destination.

Then another line appeared, and Kestrel read with surprise:

_ Who is your target?

_ Type "Voron", Sam said. They're the main threat, Sarto is nothing without them.

Kestrel obeyed, and pressed enter. Suddenly, all computers turned black and showed different programs, and the overhead projector displayed all the images on the screens in eight squares on the wall.

Sam's one had a view of the Boise airport, where they could see the Paladin starting an automatic checklist and switching on the motors. Grim's one had a small window with a view in the cockpit and the main screen displayed the access to the Paladin's SMI in real time. Charlie's one had the Paladin's real-time flight data, and Briggs' one was hacking the CIA database on its own, ready to match with known Voron's names. But Kestrel's one, followed by the three data computers, was hacking into Voron's servers and extracting every intel available.

_ Holy shit! Charlie exclaimed loudly. Look at that!

_ Unbelievable, Grim muttered.

_ Charlie, Sam said, what's the small window on the upper left corner of your screen?

Charlie clicked on it, and some rapid code sequences were scrolling fast. Kestrel didn't make any sense out of it, but Charlie was watching it with incredulous delight.

_ The program is duplicating itself! he shouted excitedly. He's creating a copy in my laptop for a later use!

_ Is it safe? Grim asked in alarm. If it takes control of all our protocols...

_ It's safe! Charlie said. Look, it has finished and sealed itself, asking for an access code. What will it be?

_ Alpha, Kestrel said calmly.

Charlie locked eyes with him, then nodded. He typed Alpha's name, and the window shut itself.

_ What have you got, Kestrel? Briggs asked, as if he was asking what a fellow child had got for Christmas.

_ Voron's servers.

_ What? Grim said. You have all the access?

_ I think so, he shrugged. And their data are transferred in the other computers, look.

He pointed to the screen, where gigaoctets of intel were filling the hard drives of the laptops.

_ And it looks like the data is deleted from Voron's servers as it arrives here, Charlie said joyfully. It'll be a major blow in their faces!

Kestrel, in spite of being happy about the program and what it was doing for them, felt sorrow rise in his heart, and his hands started to shake. That was Alpha's work, she was saving them from beyond the grave again, and he missed her. So he stood up and strode out of the room, blinking back the tears threatening to come out. He grabbed his coat and went outside, heading for the clearing with the waterfall.

The snow was falling heavily and a bitter wind was blowing, but he didn't care. He ached for vodka, even if he knew there wasn't any left in the chalet, and his fists clenched, fighting the withdrawal sensation gripping his guts and making his limbs shake. He started to sweat, although the temperature was near -5°C. He had difficulty advancing in the almost waist-deep snow, but he fought his way to the clearing as if his life depended on it.

At last he reached the clearing, where the snow was only ankle-deep with the protective fir trees around it. The waterfall was still cascading into the natural well, and the nature was so peaceful and silent it was like another world. He sat on his usual rock under a large branch, breathing deeply and trying to control the shaking of his body. He wouldn't have any help with it, he had to find the strenght alone. But he took out Alpha's photo from his inner pocket and stared intently at it.

_ Alpha, he murmured to it, please give me your force of will. I really need it.

Then he pocketed it back, not wanting to dampen it with the falling snow, and rose. He had to take some fresh air and exercise, so he texted a message for Sam on his OPSAT: "Need a walk. Will be back for dinner." Then he set off along the dirt path, alternately walking and running, chasing off the urge for alcohol and the melancholy. The sun was low on the horizon when he turned around, and came back to the chalet.

He ran carefully, not wanting to be late. But when he approached the chalet, he saw two figures with thick white clothes treading silently around it, guns in hands.

He crouched and took out his Beretta, cursing his dark clothes and the absence of his goggles. He had underestimated the threat, and here was the result. Voron was attacking them again.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Already 30 chapters, that's so great! Please review to encourage me! ;)


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The first thing Kestrel did was sending another message via his OPSAT to Sam. "Voron attacks." Then he carefully advanced towards the back of the chalet, walking around the two Voron ops. They had goggles, but fortunately for him the snow was still falling heavily, disrupting their vision and having hidden his earlier tracks. He scouted around them, staying under the cover of the trees, looking for other agents. But it seemed they were only two, studying the back door and windows, then hiding under the porch.

He was too far from them to shoot them with his Beretta and he would be visible on the white snow if he left the cover of the forest. But the sun was almost set, and the dark would soon give him some additional cover. So he waited patiently, monitoring their movements, and hoping that Sam had received his message and was securing the team with Briggs. And sure enough, he received an answer. "We see two on the porch with our goggles. Preparing the reception committee. Watch the back door. Catch them alive if possible."

When it was pitch dark, the Voron ops got up and split up. One headed slowly for the front door, soon disappearing from Kestrel's view, and the other went to the back door, picking its lock. So Kestrel, still crouching low, approached him silently from behind. He had a feline pace, even in the snow, and his target, not expecting an attack from the outside, never heard him before it was too late. Kestrel slammed the butt of his pistol on the temple of the ops, and he crumpled. He sent a message to Sam. "Got one at the back door." Then he waited for the door to open, alert for any other threat.

And five minutes later, the door unlocked and Sam, gun in his left hand and goggles on, opened it widely with a large smile.

_ Sorry for the waiting, he said, pushing back his goggles on his forehead. Please carry our guest inside.

Kestrel, smiling too, understood that the other agent had been taken care of, and he picked up his enemy on his shoulders. Then he carried him to the living room and put him on a sofa. Grim, Charlie, Dr Collins and the nurse Anderson were looking at his burden with ferocious glares, but shot him grateful smiles.

_ Thanks, Kestrel, Briggs said, entering the room, gun at the ready and goggles on his head. Without your message we would've been caught by surprise. I would never have thought they could find us so quickly and easily.

_ One thing you must learn about Voron is to never underestimate them, Kestrel said darkly.

Briggs shook his head.

_ I should know it, you were one of them. And you're more dangerous than a wild tiger.

_ I'll take that as a compliment. Where is the other?

_ He defended himself, Sam said, entering the room. Briggs killed him. I searched him but found nothing. Took a picture to identify him.

He showed a photo on his smartphone to Kestrel who recognized him at once.

_ Kirill Malkine. Nasty piece of shit.

_ Then he was one of the ops who attacked us in El Paso, Sam recalled grimly. Maybe he was the one who killed his colleague.

_ You did well shooting him, Briggs, Kestrel said. That bastard raped, tortured and killed five innocent Chechen women, among other atrocities.

Grim and the nurse Anderson looked revolted, and the men grimaced. Kestrel bent on the unconscious ops and frisked him thoroughly, but found nothing other than an earpiece, a combat knife and some smoke grenades. Then he removed his hood and saw with cruel satisfaction who his enemy was.

_ Just the man I wanted, he said ruthlessly. Nikolaï Dubov. Late Christmas present from Voron to me, it seems.

Sam and Briggs came next to him, and Briggs wrenched open the mouth of the Voron ops. He checked his teeth, and soon removed a small capsule. He examined it with a satisfied smile on his face and said:

_ One cyanide pill less for our guest. He won't commit suicide like the other one.

Sam put his hand on Kestrel's shoulder and said simply:

_ He's all yours, Kestrel. I want answers, like you and all of us. So do whatever you have to do. We'll put him in the empty cellar in the basement, and if he doesn't leave alive I couldn't care less.

_ Okay, Kestrel nodded calmly. But I want to record the interrogation. For Kossiak, he added, seeing the puzzled look on his boss' face.

_ All right, Sam agreed. Good idea.

Briggs helped him carry the ops downstairs in the cellar Sam had talked about, and they stripped him from all his clothes except his pants and fatigues. Then they put him on a steel chair and bound him to it with handcuffs on his wrists and ankles. Sam came a minute later with a camera on a tripod and set it next to the door, ready to record Dubov's answers. Briggs left, then it was Dr Collins who came, handing a little bottle to Kestrel.

_ Smelling salts, he said. You'll need them soon, I expect.

_ Yes, thanks, doc, he said gratefully.

_ Do you want to have dinner before starting, Kestrel? Sam asked him.

_ No thanks, Sam. I'm not hungry.

Sam seemed to understand, clapped him on the shoulder one more time then left, Dr Collins behind him. Briggs came back and put down the toolbox he was carrying next to Kestrel who thanked him. And when Briggs, nodding a last time to him, closed the door, Kestrel sat on the other chair next to the camera. The only light was coming from the naked light bulb above Dubov's head, and it would dazzle his target and hid him in the shadows. He shot a glance inside the toolbox and saw some pliers, a hammer, nails, thin wire, a lenght of rope, pincers, and so on. All he needed to be persuasive. Then he tore the bottom of his T-shirt, gathering a large ribbon he would use later.

He waited patiently for his old comrade to come round, knowing that skillfully-built tension and fear worked better on the human mind than any physical torture. Soon Dubov started to stir, and Kestrel switched on the camera, recording everything that would happen. The Voron ops, a large bruise on his right temple, groaned and his eyes slowly blinked open. He raised his head and looked around him in surprise. Then he realized he was bound on a chair and started to be agitated, trying to move. But the chair was very heavy and his ankles were cuffed so high his feet weren't touching the floor.

Kestrel couldn't help the nasty smile on his lips when he saw panic rising in his target's eyes, but he forced himself to breath deeply, and soon he felt his usual poker face on his features. Then he spoke slowly but clearly, in Russian so there would be no misunderstanding.

_ So, Raven. Decided to have a little stroll in Idaho? What a mistake, мой друг. _(my friend)_

Dubov jumped, his head turning towards the shadowy corner where Kestrel was sitting, and he stammered, his voice trembling with fear:

_ Kes... Kestrel... I... I didn't...

_ You did know I would possibly be there, my friend. You won't fool me. I know you want me dead since I escaped from your clutches in Koltsovo.

_ I... I don't know... what you're talking about...

_ Liar.

Kestrel rose, and Dubov's eyes caught the movement in the dark. His pupils dilated in fear.

_ Even if you were always wearing a hood while torturing me in Timochenko's lab, I knew it was you. Do you know why?

Kestrel, still hidden in the shadows, grabbed the hammer and a handful of nails, doing as much noise as possible to fray the nerves of his target who jumped again.

_ You have a twitch in your right eye since that mission in Lahore. Maybe you're not aware of it, but it makes you recognizable, a huge flaw for a spy.

_ Kestrel, listen... Dubov started, obviously panicking now. I acted on Timochenko's orders, he was our boss, I couldn't...

_ You could've refused, Kestrel cut him calmly. Like Marinov and Jdan did. But you were only too happy to make me suffer. Eager to make others suffer, but you yourself can't cope with pain. Shame.

_ What... what do you want from me?

_ I want you to talk, Kestrel said, taking a step forward in the light, making his prey paralyzed in fear at the view of his tools. You're going to tell me everything I'll ask you, honestly and quickly. If not, then I have some cool means of persuasion here with me.

_ You... you can't do that! Dubov protested weakly. You're American, you wouldn't...

_ I wouldn't do what? he cut him abruptly. Do what you did to me? Have the authorization to do it? What did you expect, мой друг? That as long as we're in the US you'd be safe from my wrath? You were just kidding yourself. You're in my country, my friend, and you made a big mistake by attacking me and my team.

_ Wait! Dubov cried pathetically, sweating hard. I acted on Avilov's orders all along! He's the one who wants you dead! Since the beginning he's the one manning the helm! Timochenko and he were working together, and they plotted the murder of Vialitsyn!

Kestrel's face kept neutral, but inwardly he was smiling. That limp had always been weak, and maybe he would sing without him having to get his hands dirty.

_ Keep talking, he said seriously. As long as you do it, I won't hurt you.

_ Avilov and Vikachev killed Vialitsyn two years ago, and Avilov wormed his way to Voron's leadership. He has powerful allies in the SVR who turned a blind eye. Timochenko was his second-in-command before that scum Kossiak.

_ Interesting. Falcon will be delighted if he ever hears you.

_ You're not from Voron anymore, Loskov, Dubov spat, regaining some composure. And I won't say anything more.

_ Are you sure? Kestrel asked him, bracing himself for what would follow.

_ I'm not scared of you, Loskov!

Kestrel let out a faint smile. Dubov had made a big mistake, and unfortunately for him Kestrel knew that he himself was very unforgiving.

_ No? Pity, Raven. Because you should be.

He walked to his prey who cowered in fear again and covered his eyes with the T-shirt rag. Then, emptying his mind, he started to get his hands dirty.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

When Sam came back to the living room, he felt as if he had just entered a war command center. Even Dr Collins was bent over a laptop, his own, carefully checking the Paladin's images. Grim raised her head and smiled a little, so he knew the situation was not desperate yet. He walked next to her and asked:

_ Where are we?

_ The Paladin is thoroughly searched by some special forces who happened to be on the Montana base, she said calmly, rubbing her eyes. They've found two spying devices so far, but I'm afraid there are more.

_ The flight was peaceful, without incident, Charlie added. We kept the program under control. This is so cool!

_ Easy, Charlie, Sam said, noticing Briggs coming back to his computer, looking grim. We won't use it anymore than needed, and only for emergencies. Alpha's warning is very real, and I trusted her wholly.

_ So did I, Grim said.

_ But thanks to her, we have an ace up our sleeve now, Charlie insisted.

_ Yeah, but don't make a fuss, Sam said darkly. Let's concentrate. What do we know?

_ I'm following the tracks of Fedorova and Sarto, Charlie said more seriously. They're in a hotel in Moscow, and so far they're still there.

_ We've got all the Voron data, Grim said. It's huge, but at least with Charlie's hacking program we'll be able to know where is each agent and keep an eye on them.

_ And I'm tracking Avilov, Briggs said. I want this bastard out of the States faster than you can say "son of a bitch", so I'm posting his ugly face with some CIA friends of mine. If he's smart he'll take the first flight to Russia with his team if he doesn't want to be sentenced to fifty years in a nice federal prison.

_ Good, Sam approved. So now we'll concentrate...

Muffled screams coming from below them cut him, and he realized that Kestrel had started his rough interrogation. He wondered if his ops would bear the pressure and resist to his alcohol addiction. Torturing a man, even if he was a complete and utter bastard, could be mentally devastating, and torturers were often hardened sociopaths who liked to see others suffer. But Kestrel was not a sociopath, and Sam was worrying about his sanity. So he decided to wait for him, even if he had to stay awake all night, and be there to pick up the pieces if his ops fell apart.

The team had gone silent, and Grim paled. Even if she was tough and had seen ugly things before, even killed, hearing a teammate torturing a prisoner was disturbing. Sam put a hand on her neck, gently stroking it, cleared his throat and spoke again, covering the screams with his voice.

_ As I was saying, we'll concentrate on finding the submarine and its possible targets. And we must know when the attack will happen.

_ Not until a week at least, Briggs said. Thank God the Russian president Terekhov is a cautious man, he ordered a complete search of every navy boat to find eventual bombs and checked the security around them. Caldwell did the same for our boats, so we have a week to clear up things.

_ The weather will get warmer tomorrow, Grim added, and the snow will start to melt. I think we'll be able to leave in two days.

_ Okay, Sam said. This is good news, and we need them. Dr Collins, can I ask you to contact the pilots of the Paladin? Tell them to go to Malmstrom base in Montana and be ready to fly the Paladin back in Boise in two days. Alert the crew too, I want everybody ready on deck as soon as we climb the ramp of the plane.

_ Sure, the doc said, grabbing the phone and exiting the room.

_ Charlie, you'll do Kestrel's job for tonight. Find who and where the Voron agents are, and hack into their phones, mailboxes, the usual. I want a map with dots before midnight.

Charlie simply nodded and set to work.

_ Briggs, find that bloody submarine, or at least its harbour.

_ I'm following some evidence, Sam, Briggs said, bent over his laptop. I'll report ASAP. And Molly will cook our dinner.

_ Grim? Some news about this high-ranked accomplice?

_ I already can tell you that this asshole works in the Pentagon, she spat, her eyes shooting daggers at her screen. But I'm still tracking him or her.

_ Right, Sam said. Charlie, send the files of the Voron agents I'll tell you on my computer, please. Avilov, Kossiak, Fedorova, Stepankova, Timochenko, Dubov. And Kestrel's one.

_ Why Kestrel's one? Grim asked him, puzzled.

_ I want to see what Voron had on him after they betrayed him, Sam said seriously. I want to be completely sure to know if I can trust this Kossiak. What if he double-crosses us and kills Kestrel?

_ You're right, she sighed. Better be suspicious than reckless.

_ Exactly, he said with a half-smile. To work, everybody, and Charlie? Put some music on, please.

Charlie obeyed without any question and played some Coldplay songs. The music was soft in order to concentrate but loud enough to cover Dubov's screams.

An hour later Molly Anderson, Briggs' official girlfriend, went to the living room and told the team that dinner was ready. Sam, realizing he was starving, honoured the delicious meal she had prepared, Italian meatballs with pasta and tomato sauce. But he was thinking about Kestrel and his cooking talent, and the thought put a damper on his spirit. In what state would he find his ops?

Grim's soft hand caressing his arm jarred him back to reality.

_ Sam? Are you all right?

_ Yeah, he said, locking eyes with her. I was thinking about Kestrel.

She nodded thoughtfully, concern on her face. Dr Collins, seated opposite her, intervened:

_ The timing is bad for him, he has stopped drinking. A shot of vodka would've been recommended after that. But I'll prepare a sleeping tablet for him. Just don't leave him alone until he falls asleep.

_ Wasn't planning to, doc, Sam said grimly.

_ And he needs to eat, Grim added. He hasn't eaten since this morning.

_ I'll make him a sandwich, the nurse Anderson offered. So he'll eat it whenever he wants.

_ Thanks, Molly, Briggs said, kissing her.

Sam couldn't help being moved by the two of them. They were cute and perfectly matched. Molly Anderson was a plump Afro-American woman with a perpetual kind smile on her face, and Briggs looked happy with her. So Sam was happy for them.

After dinner they all returned to their jobs, But Sam wasn't really paying attention to the files he had on the screen. His mind was a floor below, and he was too distracted to concentrate. And at 11 pm, he told his team to have a break till dawn and go to bed. Charlie went at once, yawning widely, closely followed by Dr Collins, who returned a minute later with the promised sleeping tablet. Grim and Briggs insisted to stay with Sam, and the three of them had a last coffee in the kitchen.

They were talking about the security on the Russian navy bases when Sam heard a heavy footstep in the stairs leading to the basement. And a few seconds later, Kestrel appeared in the kitchen, carrying the camera. He had haggard, tightened features and a wild gleam in his deep brown eyes. His hands, arms and torn T-shirt were covered in blood.

Sam knew at once that his ops was about to snap, so he jumped to his feet and told him:

_ Come, Kestrel. You need a shower.

Like in a dream, Kestrel faced him, but his stare was far away and unfocused. Sam thought dimly that he looked like a zombie, with his empty stare and waxed face. Briggs approached his friend and removed the camera from his hand. Kestrel simply said, his tone gloomy and monocord:

_ He told me everything. It's all in the recording.

Sam grimaced inwardly at the question he had to ask him, but did it nevertheless:

_ Is he still alive?

_ Yes.

_ Okay, Sam said, forcing down the emotion and speaking in a soft, soothing voice. That's good. Now, you'll come with me, have a shower then have a good night's sleep.

Kestrel, like an automaton, exited the kitchen and ascended the stairs to the bathroom on the third floor, Sam and Briggs behind him. Briggs had grabbed the plate with the sandwich and went to Kestrel's room. Sam entered the bathroom and helped Kestrel out of his T-shirt.

_ So much blood, the ops murmured, his voice cracking at last.

_ Kestrel, look at me, Sam said sternly.

The ops turned his eyes towards Sam, and he saw they were still empty and glassy, but with a manic gleam. Sam chose his words very carefully, knowing that the mind of his ops was in unstable equilibrium between sanity and madness, and said gently:

_ Kestrel, what you did was the right thing. We have a war to prevent, we need information. What you did to Dubov will save thousands of innocent lives. You were right to do it.

Kestrel's eyes lit up a little, and the manic gleam disappeared. But he said:

_ I'm so tired, Sam.

_ Take a quick shower, then you'll go to bed.

Kestrel nodded and Sam turned his back on him while the ops put out the rest of his clothes and went into the shower stall. Briggs entered, carrying some fresh clothes, and said in an undertone to Sam:

_ I put the sandwich on his nightstand. Maybe he'll eat it before sleeping.

_Maybe.

Soon the ops got out of the shower, and Sam and Briggs waited for him outside the bathroom. And when Kestrel came out, he looked more alert and less lost, but he was obviously exhausted. Sam escorted him to his bed, and Kestrel sat then noticed the sandwich.

_ Is it for me? he asked Briggs weakly.

_ Yes, Molly made it for you.

_ That's very nice of her, Kestrel said, looking grateful. Please thank her for me.

He grabbed the sandwich and wolfed it down, then took a bottle of water next to the nightstand.

_ Here, Sam said, handing him the tablet. Take it while you drink.

Without raising an eyebrow Kestrel obeyed, gulping down the pill with large mouthfuls of water. Then he lay down on his bed, and said, his eyelids drooping:

_ Wait until tomorrow to watch the recording.

_ Why? Sam wanted to know.

Kestrel was almost asleep, but he had the time to answer before starting to breath deeply.

_ It would give you nightmares.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

After a blissful and dreamless sleep, Kestrel awoke slowly in his bedroom bathed in daylight. Under his blankets he shot a look at his window and was surprised to see the sun so high. He looked at his OPSAT and read 11.32 am. He had slept around the clock, and he was feeling perfectly rested and well. He even noticed that he didn't feel any remorse anymore, Sam's words had comforted him when he had needed it.

He got up and dressed up in fatigues and a polo shirt with a dark pullover, put his usual boots on, then made his bed and took the empty plate on his nightstand. Then he exited the room and started to go downstairs, wondering why the team had let him sleep like a rock. But he thought that they had seen his distress the day before, so Sam had probably decided to cut him some slack. And he was grateful, he had needed a good sleep.

On the first stair, he felt dizzy again. And this time, it had nothing to do with hypoglycemia. He knitted his eyebrows, wondering what was happening to him. Don't be stupid, Loskov, he scowled, you've done countless acrobatic stunts before, so a simple staircase is a baby's joke.

He started to go down slowly, but his head was spinning fast. And he tripped over himself, thinking in a flash that if he arrived in one piece on the landing of the second floor he would slap himself. He tried to cushion his fall by arching his back and shoulders, but this time his head slammed violently on the ramp. In a daze, he tumbled down the stairs, hearing the plate breaking, and beneath him he felt his left arm twist and heard the sharp sound of bones cracking. Hot-white pain surged through his entire body, taking the wind out of him, and when he finally landed on horizontal ground he blacked out.

When he came round, he could hear voices around him, and strong hands carefully turning him and making him lie on his back. He heard Briggs' voice that said with a gasp:

_ Look at his arm! It's broken! And that gash on his head!

_ What happened to him, doc? Sam asked, his voice full of concern. That's the second time he falls in the staircase.

_ I don't know, Dr Collins answered darkly, but I'll examine him closely. Here, take this and put it on his head. It'll staunch the bleeding.

Kestrel felt a cloth pressed on his right temple, where his head had collided with the ramp, and in the meantime some hands, he supposed they belonged to the doc, were gently picking up his broken arm. But the doc made a sudden false movement, and the pain rushed back. Kestrel couldn't help a muffled groan and almost fainted again. But Dr Collins was saying:

_ Sam, I need the sling. You're healed, and Kestrel will need it more than you do.

_ At last! Sam said. I was fed up with it. Kestrel? Can you hear me?

_ Yes, he said weakly, his eyes still closed to stop the spinning.

_ What happened? Dizzy again?

_ Yes. I don't understand...

_ I have a slight suspicion of what's happening, agent Kestrel, Dr Collins said. But I'll have to make a CT scan of your skull, and it'll have to wait until we go back to the Paladin. In the meantime, you'll stay on the first floor and I forbid you to use staircases.

_ But Dubov...

_ I'll take care of him, Sam said next to him. Don't worry, Kestrel.

_ Agent Kestrel? the doc asked him. Can you open your eyes?

_ Not yet.

_ Why?

_ Spinning won't stop.

_ Your head is still spinning?

_ Yes.

The doc stayed silent for a few seconds, then he said:

_ We'll make you stand, agent Kestrel, but keep your eyes closed. Commander... Sam and agent Briggs will support you to the lounge. If you feel nausea or a sudden hot flash, tell us immediately. Understood?

_ Yes, he murmured, vaguely ashamed to be so feeble but feeling too bad to really care.

Around him he heard two people kneeling and grabbing him under the shoulders and in his back.

_ Ready, agent Kestrel? One, two, three!

He felt himself sitting then being pulled on his feet. His right arm was firmly raised and put on somebody's shoulders, probably Sam. He then felt Briggs' strong grip around his waist, and Dr Collins said:

_ Okay, here we go. Let yourself be stirred, agent Kestrel, we're going down. Keep your eyes closed.

His knees were buckling under him, but he gritted his teeth and stubbornly pushed on his feet. He wasn't going to be carried like a dead weight, even if his head was spinning more than ever. Slowly he felt himself going down the stairs to the first floor, fighting his dizziness. He felt as if there were a hundred stairs, and not only fifteen. But at long last they arrived in the hall, and he followed Sam's firm stirring to the left, through the living room and towards the lounge.

Finally Sam and Briggs stopped and made him turn round. Sam put his strong arms around Kestrel's chest and made him sit on a large sofa. The ops, feeling like he was in a tornado, slumped back on the backseat. Then he felt his left arm moving and being carefully put in the sling. Dr Collins, who was obviously the one doing it, was saying:

_ I can't set your bones right yet, agent Kestrel. But tomorrow, aboard the Paladin, you'll have surgery and a cast. How are you feeling?

_ Cold, he said, feeling a shiver down his spine. Sick.

_ We'll make you lie down. Agent Briggs?

Kestrel felt his torso turning gently as his legs were raised, and the next second he was lying on his back on the sofa. Briggs removed his boots, and he felt a blanket covering him, warming him up.

_ Hi, Kestrel, Grim's soft voice rose next to him. Is the blanket okay?

_ Hi, Grim, he answered, the spinning slowly decreasing. It's okay. Thanks.

_ Don't mention it. Get well.

_ Can you open your eyes now, agent Kestrel? Dr Collins asked while nursing his right temple.

He blinked and forced his eyes open, staring at the blurred wooden ceiling. The spinning was fading now, and soon he could focus on the details of the wooden planks above his head. Then he saw the face of the doc to his right, finishing bandaging his head, and turned it towards him. He winced, his neck was hurting him too.

_ Agent Kestrel? Where does it hurt?

_ My neck.

Dr Collins knitted his eyebrows and slowly touched his neck, making his head turn and twist gently. Kestrel was beginning to think he had imagined the whole thing when a jolt of pain surged in the right side of his neck, making him jump and clench his right fist.

_ Oh, yes, Dr Collins was saying, you have a nice crick in your neck. I'll put a neck brace around it. Molly?

_ I'm on my way, doc, Kestrel heard the nurse Anderson say.

Then he saw Sam appear in his peripheral vision, concern etched on his face.

_ All because you fell in the stairs. You've arranged yourself nicely, Kestrel. How did it happen, for God's sake?

_ I tripped, Kestrel mumbled. Can't see why. I slept well, felt all right.

_ I think the answer will be in your brain, agent Kestrel, Dr Collins said thoughtfully. Maybe the removal of the microchip has touched your inner ear, thus disturbing your sense of balance when you're in heights. Nothing worrisome, but certainly annoying. I'll examine you aboard the Paladin, we'll run tests, find what's happening and set you right in no time.

_ I won't be declared incapacitated? Kestrel asked, dread filling his guts.

Dr Collins smiled kindly and put a hand on his shoulder.

_ Of course not. Inner ear disorders are common among special forces' operatives, and I'll treat you just like I did with a hundred tough men before you. Not a single one has been declared incapacitated, agent Kestrel. Don't you worry about it.

Kestrel's breathing eased, he felt better. For a few seconds he had been terrified of being physically unfit for the only thing he knew: be an ops. Dr Collins said:

_ Now you'll stay here and relax for a few hours. I'll give you some painkillers, and... oh, thanks, Molly.

He took the neck brace and asked Sam next to him:

_ Can you raise him a little bit, Sam, please?

_ Sure, Sam said.

Kestrel lifted himself on his right elbow, helped by Sam, while the doc was putting the neck brace underneath him. Then Sam gently set him back, and the doc attached the brace around Kestrel's neck. The ops gritted his teeth again, forcing down the grunt of pain he felt in his neck and arm. But once his neck was in the brace, he felt better. He let out a sigh of relief.

_ Already feeling better, I hear, Dr Collins smiled. Good, I'll leave you now. Molly will give you the painkillers in a few moments.

_ Thanks for everything, doc, Kestrel said gratefully.

_ Don't mention it, agent Kestrel. It's my job and my pleasure.

The doc left, and Kestrel saw Sam's face bending over him.

_ How do you feel?

_ Better, he said truthfully. Except that I have the sensation of being paralyzed from the neck to my waist on the left side.

_ You're not far from the truth, Sam smiled faintly. You look like a prisoner in half a straightjacket.

_ Speaking of a prisoner...

_ We haven't watched the recording yet, Kestrel. We were waiting for you.

_ Why? Kestrel was astonished.

_ Because I want you to translate for us, Sam said grimly. I suppose you spoke in Russian?

_ Yes.

_ I roughly understand Russian, like Briggs and Grim, but for this we must be certain of your exact words, and we're not fluent enough. And a digital program would just make a fantasy translation. So, could you translate for us?

Kestrel hesitated. He wasn't sure if he could watch what he did to Dubov.

_ We'll come here in the lounge, so you'll just hear the words and not see the images. And Charlie will type your translation. Please?

So Kestrel gave in. He had to help his team.

_ Okay, Sam. I'll do it.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Sam beckoned at his waiting team to connect the camera to the television and power the computer. For a few seconds he had been afraid that Kestrel would refuse to translate his interrogation of Dubov, but he should've known better. Even if he almost killed himself by falling headfirst in the stairs and had now a wry neck, a broken arm and a swollen temple, his ops was tough.

Grim sat in an armchair she had turned round, to have her back on the television, and Charlie did the same, laptop on his knees. The team had agreed that only Sam and Briggs would watch Kestrel's violence, as they themselves had done some pretty nasty jobs before. And Sam'd rather spare his tech and the woman he loved as much as possible. Dr Collins and Molly Anderson weren't in the room, obeying Sam's orders.

He shot a glance at Kestrel, lying on his sofa. The ops had closed his eyes and was obviously doing sophrology. Sam made a mental note to ask him to give him a course, this method was working great on the bursts of anger of his ops, so maybe he should take a leaf out of his book.

Briggs finished connecting the camera, then said:

_ It's okay. We can get started.

_ Kestrel? Sam asked. You're ready?

_ I am, his ops replied calmly, eyes still closed.

_ We'll pass the whole recording first, Briggs explained, then I'll stop at the end of each sentence, Kestrel, to give you the time to translate and Charlie to type on his laptop.

_ Copy.

After a last kiss with Grim, Sam sat down in the armchair next to Kestrel and nodded to Briggs. The ops pressed the play button on his remote control, and the film started. Sam watched it with detached emotion, seeing Kestrel interrogating Dubov with a calm tone, torturing him, but with much control. In fact, Sam thought dimly, Kestrel's manhandling was rather tame compared to what he himself had done in his years on the field, and as usual Kestrel had kept the upper hand on his emotions, more professional and efficient than Sam had ever been.

He saw Kestrel doing things with nails and a hammer that made Sam and Briggs shudder, but at least it was making Dubov talk. The Voron ops was obviously not a hardened warrior, he couldn't withstand the pain. But Kestrel had had to push him pretty far to make him talk about Timochenko, Sam recognized the name on several sentences. In the end, Kestrel took out the thin wire and was strangling Dubov, and the Voron ops panicked. He completely broke down and told Kestrel all he wanted to know in quick sentences while sobbing and inhaling jerky breaths.

At last Dubov stopped talking, and the Kestrel in the recording said a last thing, some words Sam didn't know, but with such a fierce stare and expression that he knew it had been like a mantra for his ops. And even with a blindfold, Dubov was wearing a terrorized expression on his face before the recording stopped.

Briggs cleared his throat, then prepared the recording to be replayed.

_ Ready, Charlie?

_ Ready, the tech said with a small voice.

_ Kestrel?

_ I'm ready, the ops said calmly, still like in a trance.

Briggs played the recording, and stopped at each sentence. Kestrel took his time to translate, sometimes racking his brains and furrowing his eyebrows to find the right words, and Charlie typed his answers.

_ So, Raven. Decided to have a little stroll in Idaho? What a mistake, мой друг. _(my friend)_

_ Kestrel... I didn't...

_ You did know I would possibly be there, my friend. You won't fool me. I know you want me dead since I escaped from your clutches in Koltsovo.

_ I don't know... what you're talking about...

_ Liar... Even if you were always wearing a hood while torturing me in Timochenko's lab, I knew it was you. Do you know why? … You have a twitch in your right eye since that mission in Lahore. Maybe you're not aware of it, but it makes you recognizable, a huge flaw for a spy.

_ Kestrel, listen... I acted on Timochenko's orders, he was our boss, I couldn't...

_ You could've refused. Like Marinov and Jdan did. But you were only too happy to make me suffer. Eager to make others suffer, but you yourself can't cope with pain. Shame.

_ What do you want from me?

_ I want you to talk. You're going to tell me everything I'll ask you, honestly and quickly. If not, then I have some cool means of persuasion here with me.

_ You can't do that! You're American, you wouldn't...

_ I wouldn't do what? Do what you did to me? Have the authorization to do it? What did you expect, my friend? That as long as we're in the US you'd be safe from my wrath? You were just kidding yourself. You're in my country, my friend, and you made a big mistake by attacking me and my team.

_ Wait! I acted on Avilov's orders all along! He's the one who wants you dead! Since the beginning he's the one manning the helm! Timochenko and he were working together, and they plotted the murder of Vialitsyn!

_ Keep talking. As long as you do it, I won't hurt you.

_ Avilov and Vikachev killed Vialitsyn two years ago, and Avilov wormed his way to Voron's leadership. He has powerful allies in the SVR who turned a blind eye. Timochenko was his second-in-command before that scum Kossiak.

_ Interesting. Falcon will be delighted if he ever hears you.

_ You're not from Voron anymore, Loskov. And I won't say anything more.

_ Are you sure?

_ I'm not scared of you, Loskov!

_ No? Pity, Raven. Because you should be.

The next sentences were harder to discern between Dubov's screams, but Kestrel translated nevertheless, still with his calm tone, as if he was a dubbing artist. Sam was proud to see that he had completely recovered from the ordeal and accepted to have become an executioner in order to obtain vital intel.

_ Where is Avilov?

_ No, wait, Kestrel! Please, don't! _(screams)_ Okay, stop! Stop! Avilov is following your plane! He split up my team and took Jdan and Beria with him. He left Malkine with me. Is he...?

_ He's dead. Just like you will be after we're finished if I'm not satisfied with your answers. So, next question, Nikolaï. Who are the other agents with Avilov, aside from Jdan and Beria?

_ Marinov, Lebedeva, Voronkov and Kniazev.

_ Why does Voron have a sudden interest in me?

_ I don't know. _(screams)_ Stop! Stop! I'll answer you! Avilov wants your microchip! We were to capture you alive and bring you back to Voron's headquarters. He thinks the microchip contains a copy of Timochenko's research.

_ Why bring me back to Russia? You could've killed me and take the microchip on my body.

_ I don't know, I... _(screams)_ Okay! Okay! Stop, I beg you! Avilov wants to study you, Timochenko burned and destroyed his research on you and all his experiments before he left Russia. And since he's dead, Avilov would have to start from scratch to obtain super-soldiers, but he's no scientist. So he wants you alive to save time in case the microchip isn't there.

_ So I would be his guinea pig. Interesting. Now, why Avilov is helping Sarto?

_ I don't know who you're talking about.

_ Yes, you do.

_ No, please! _(screams)_ All right, all right, I'll tell you! Sarto was planning to kill his boss O'Brian with Timochenko's help, and take his place. Avilov would've taken Sarto's place in the organization.

_ So you know about Meggido. Interesting. You know quite a lot for a simple pawn, Raven.

_ I don't...

_ Save your breath. What about Coudray and Leblanc? And Villas?

_ They were on O'Brian's side, that's why they're still in jail. Villas was on our side, but he's been killed. Probably by you.

_ Why did Sarto want to take O'Brian's place?

_ I can't tell, he'd kill me.

_ Think about the situation you're in now.

_ No, I won't tell you, Loskov. _(screams)_ Stop! Stop! Please, stop! Okay, okay! O'Brian wanted to wait for the American and Russian elections to bring to power two faithful men. But Sarto was keen for more drastic measures.

_ He wanted to have them murdered?

_ Yes. And in his plan, Voron was to do it. Avilov is still intent on killing Terekhov, in spite of the events. Caldwell will soon be out, the American elections are at the end of the year, but Terekhov has just been elected, Avilov doesn't want to wait. 

___ The SVR would never accept such a thing. Who Avilov thinks he's kidding?

_ Avilov has a lot of power, Kestrel. He's on the short list of the future SVR director.

_ What about the internal appointment? Do Kossiak, Stepankova, Nikonova and Pavlov agree with this?

_ Fuck you, Loskov. _(screams)_ Stop! Stop! Only Pavlov supports Avilov, the others are hostile to his appointment at the head of the SVR.

_ So what is Avilov planning to do with them?

_ Fuck you, Loskov. And save your nails, I won't talk anymore.

_ We'll see, my friend. I have other handy tools.

 _(strangled sounds)_

_ Are you ready to talk now? Or do I have to throttle you harder?

_ No, please! No more! I'll tell you everything! Please, no more!

_ So, what is Avilov planning to do with Kossiak, Stepankova and Nikonova?

_ They will be executed in two weeks. They'll be falsely convicted of treason in a few days, after another attack on some boats. But I swear to you I don't know anything about this attack or who'll be targeted, only that it won't be Russian boats.

_ How will they be convicted of treason?

_ Avilov will create the evidence that they killed the president Terekhov.

_ So the assassination of Terekhov will happen soon?

_ He has a great meeting in seven days in Saint Petersburg. Voron is to protect him there, and Kossiak will be supervising the agents. The ideal situation.

 _(thick silence)_

_ Avilov's plan will fail, my friend. You'll see a kestrel storm on Saint Petersburg in seven days. Yes, a Kestrel storm.

The recording stopped, and Sam shot a bewildered look at Briggs, exchanged a serious glance with Grim and Charlie then looked at Kestrel. He had opened his eyes and was staring absent-mindedly at the ceiling, but on his face the same fierce expression than the one in the recording was showing.

_ What do you mean, a kestrel storm? Sam asked him, suspecting the answer.

_ I mean that I'll be in Saint Petersburg in seven days, Sam, he said calmly, but with fire in his eyes. I'll be there and stop this madness.

Sam didn't comment on his broken arm, and only said:

_ But what will you do exactly? Avilov will kill you!

_ I hope you'll watch my back, Kestrel said, looking at his boss at last, determination on his face. You told me we had a war to prevent. We'll stop the attack of the submarine and save the Russian president.

_ Like others have said before, Briggs chimed in gloomily, it's mission impossible.

Sam grinned wickedly.

_ All the words I like.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Sam saw Kestrel shoot a not-so-surprised look at him, obviously glad to see that his boss was backing him up. Sam knew that if Terekhov was assassinated, the already tense situation between the USA and Russia could evolve into a full-scale war, with the planned attack on American boats by the Voron traitors. Kestrel said calmly:

_ Maybe you should check on Dubov, Sam. When I left him last night, he was moaning and bleeding, but I extracted all the nails before opening the cuffs on his ankles. I do hope the pain prevented him from sleeping, because if you have some more questions for this son of a bitch, he should answer without too much difficulty.

_ I was thinking about asking him more about Avilov and Fedorova's whereabouts, Sam said thoughtfully. Like you noticed, he seems awfully close to his boss and knows a lot about his plans. I want to have more specific details, although you did a great job already. We know the essential.

Kestrel blinked and smiled.

_ Feel free to kill him if needed. I've had my revenge on him.

_ I think this piece of slime would be more useful alive, Grim chimed in. We could keep him in one of the cells aboard the Paladin, if we have more questions for him.

_ You're right, my love, as usual, Sam said, shooting her a grateful look. Then I'll ask the doc to come with me and tend to him when I'm finished. Is it okay with you, Kestrel?

_ It is, his ops answered serenely. But after you're done with him, we'll need to discuss our options. Will we contact Kossiak and tell him?

_ It would be better, Briggs said. Like I said, some Russian help would be welcome, and all the more if the ones who can help us are to be the scapegoats of a murder.

_ We'll talk about it as soon as I'm done with our guest, Sam announced. In the meantime, Charlie, you track all Voron agents, and Grim, you find the bloody bastard of the Pentagon. Kestrel, you stay on your sofa till the doc says otherwise. Briggs, you come with me.

_ What about the submarine? the ops sounded surprised.

_ If we can convince Kossiak and some loyal Voron members to help us, they have means to find it easier and faster than us. So we'll concentrate on Dubov. Maybe he knows more about it than what he told Kestrel last night.

_ I wouldn't be surprised, Kestrel said. And I'm wondering what role Dubov is playing in this plan. He must be special to have Avilov's trust.

_ But Avilov will probably try and contact Dubov! Grim realized. And if he doesn't answer, Avilov will know we detain him, and he'll attack us!

_ The standard procedure inside Voron is to be contacted at 3 pm by the supervisory agent, Kestrel said. And the conversations are strictly coded. We still have time to think about it.

_ Hey! Charlie said enthusiastically. I have an idea! With Kestrel's recording, I could use Dubov's voice and make up the coded sentences we need not to raise suspicion, at least until we're aboard the Paladin!

_ That's genius, Charlie, Sam approved. Kestrel, do you remember the coded sentences?

_ I've been a Voron ops for ten years before joining Fourth Echelon, Sam, Kestrel said calmly, locking eyes with him. I still haven't forgotten my job, and I remember the coded sentences well enough.

Sam blushed a little, afraid to have offended his ops, but Kestrel had an amused gleam in his eyes. So Sam inclined his head slightly, silently begging for forgiveness, and Kestrel winked at him as he couldn't nod with his neck in the brace.

_ Okay, Sam said finally. All the better the interrogating had been in Russian, then. Kestrel, tell Charlie the sentences, and Charlie, isolate the words you'll need. Briggs, fetch Dubov's cellphone. We must be ready at fifteen hundred.

_ No prob, Sam, Charlie said while Briggs searched the Voron ops' gear and took out the smartphone.

Charlie connected the smartphone and the camera to his laptop, and started to isolate Dubov's words. Grim went back to her own computer in the table of the living room, frowning in concentration. And Kestrel closed his eyes on the sofa, falling asleep in less than a minute, as he had a few moments before helping Charlie.

Sam gestured at Briggs to follow him, then headed for the cellar in the basement. Next to the door, he saw the toolbox, the cuffs and the chairs Kestrel had used for his job and wisely removed from Dubov's reach.

He unlocked the door, switched on the light and entered the cellar. Dubov jumped in alarm and sat up, hands still bound behind him and blindfold over his eyes. He had dried blood all over his bare chest and was shivering from cold, but otherwise he looked fine by Sam.

_ Who's there? he stammered in Russian. Kestrel?

_ Not Kestrel, my friend, Sam rumbled in English. But you'd better answer me as well.

_ Who... who are you?

_ Sam Fisher.

Dubov gasped, looking panic-stricken. Apparently Sam Fisher's fame had reached Russia, all the better for what he had to do.

_ I see you've heard about me. Good. Now, to be perfectly honest with you, Kestrel recorded your interrogating yesterday, and I watched it. And frankly, he has been quite soft with you, compared to what I could do. Obviously I am much more experienced than him, so you'd rather speak before I get started.

_ Fisher... Боже мой! _(My God!)_

Dubov was trembling from head to foot, moaning and almost weeping out of fear. Sam dragged the two chairs in the cellar, making Dubov cringe, and roughly sat him on one of them, bounding his ankles like Kestrel did. Briggs brought in the toolbox then sat on the other chair in a corner and took out a notebook and a pen, ready to write all Dubov's answers. Sam stayed standing, just in front of his terrorized prey.

_ So, Nikolaï. Kestrel told me about you being Avilov's buddy. What exactly are you doing for him?

_ I... I don't...

_ Think carefully about your next words, Nikolaï. I do not have Kestrel's patience and control. I'm much more - how to say it nicely? - hot-headed and quick to anger.

_ Okay, okay! I'm Avilov's right-hand man, I do all he tells me to do! That's why I know so much about his plans!

_ Right. You see? It's not so difficult to talk freely, is it? Now, I suppose you'll have an important role to play in the assassination of Terekhov. What is it?

_ I... I can't...

_ Last warning, Nikolaï. Speak before I grab these nice pliers Kestrel left me.

_ No! Please don't! I was supposed to be the man shooting down Terekhov! I'm a sniper!

_ And if you don't show up, and be assured you won't, who will back you up?

_ Voronkov. He's with Avilov. He's the best sniper we have in Voron since Kestrel...

Sam smiled. He was very happy to have Kestrel in Fourth Echelon. The guy really was a special someone.

_ Okay, Nikolaï. Next question. What can you tell me about Avilov?

_ Please, I can't...

_ If you want to get out of this cave alive and in one piece you'd better talk. You're out of Voron's reach, no one will come for you here.

_ You don't understand! Dubov stuttered in fear. If Avilov ever learns that I talked, he'll have me executed!

_ So will I if you don't answer me, Sam growled menacingly, and I, unlike Avilov, am right in front of you. Kestrel has already volunteered to give you a very slow and painful death, and maybe I'll grant his wish.

_ Please no! Dubov cried and moaned pitifully. Okay, okay, I'll tell you all I know! Avilov is forty-seven, he's Voron's commander, and he was born in Moscow. He's married, and...

_ He's married? Sam asked, trying to hide his surprise.

_ Yes, to an American woman named Samantha Jukov. I'm the only one inside Voron to know about her, aside from Timochenko and Fedorova. She lives in the USA, but I swear I don't know anything else about her!

_ Anything more about Avilov?

_ He wants to be appointed director of the SVR, but he still hasn't got the go from the Voron four. That's why he wants them dead.

_ Okay, Nikolaï. And tell me more about this Fedorova.

_ She's an ops, but lately she has become Avilov's personal assistant, doing things I obviously can't do.

_ She's spying by putting men in her bed?

_ Yes, Dubov said with a disgusted grimace. Maybe I'm not a tough ops, but at least I've never sunk so low.

_ That's your honor, Nikolaï, Sam flattered him, sensing that the ops disliked Fedorova and wanting to take advantage of it. Tell me all about her.

_ She's twenty-nine and was born in Portland from Russian parents. She chose the Russian nationality but can speak perfect English with a pure Yankee accent, which is quite useful. She usually stays in the USA to spy.

_ What role does she have to play in this operation? Sam asked, forcing down his own disgust.

_ She and Sarto are lovers since several years. He has planned to take Meggido's lead since the beginning, and now he's the only one in charge. And she supports him, of course. It was because of her that Avilov joined them and they decided the murder of Vialitsyn. And it was her who suggested to Timochenko to use Kestrel as a guinea pig for his experiments instead of killing him for good.

_ Why? Sam said, barely controlling his anger.

_ She told Avilov once that Kestrel had refused to go in her bed, and she has been mortally offended.

Sam and Briggs exchanged a revolted look, but Sam concentrated on his questions.

_ But what will she do in Saint Petersburg?

_ She'll be with Sarto, she's as much his mistress as his bodyguard, Dubov said with a grimace. They will stay away from the operation.

_ Who will be in Saint Petersburg for the operation?

_ No, I can't tell you that, Dubov said more calmly. I'm sorry, but I'm not a traitor like Kestrel.

_ Kestrel is not a traitor, Sam said, even more calmly, picking up the pliers with a lot of noise and seeing Dubov's face go pale under the blindfold. And I warned you, Nikolaï. Now it's time to play.

Dubov swallowed hard but didn't say a thing, and Sam had to admit that the guy was either braver than he was letting on or really dumb. But Sam had to keep the upper hand on the conversation, so he put Dubov's left ear between the pliers and squeezed hard. The Voron ops screamed in pain, and Sam held on for a few more seconds before opening the pliers. Then he said sternly, right next to Dubov's right ear:

_ So, Nikolaï. You were telling me who would be in Saint Petersburg. I'm listening.

_ Avilov, Dubov stammered between sobs, Voronkov, Kniazev, Lebedeva, Marinov, Jdan, Malkine and me.

_ And the backup team? Malkine is dead, for one thing. Who will take his place? And yours?

_ Asthakova and Dmitriev. And Avilov appointed Barychev, Diatlova, Ivkin and Muratov in case of emergency.

Sam shot a glance at Briggs, who nodded. They had all the names on his notebook. Then Sam bent over Dubov and said threateningly:

_ And now, Nikolaï, if you really want to live, you'll answer me honestly. In which submarine did you put the Chkval torpedoes?

Dubov's jaw dropped in bewilderment, and Sam smiled with satisfaction. They hadn't finished their nice chat yet.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

_ So, Nikolaï? Sam repeated. In which submarine did you put the torpedoes?

_ I... I can't...

_ You can, otherwise I'll smash your other ear to a pulp, Sam threatened him, putting the pliers on his right ear.

_ No, no, no! Dubov begged him, terror on his face. Please don't! Please! I'll tell you!

_ I'm listening.

_ The torpedoes are aboard the Khabarovsk, Dubov confessed, shaking in fear. It's a Project 885 attack submarine, and it belongs to the Pacific fleet.

_ Who's the commander?

_ Evgueni Gurkovski.

_ Is he from Meggido?

_ Yes, Dubov said, regaining some composure. And an old friend of Avilov's since their childhood.

_ Who knows aboard the Khabarovsk about the attack on American boats?

_ No one except the commander and his second, Dmitri Poda.

_ And when will they attack?

_ I can't tell you, Fisher! They're going to kill me!

Sam used his pliers again, and Dubov screamed louder than ever. Sam didn't like what he was doing, but this wimp had intel on the impending war, and he was determined to avoid it.

_ Nikolaï? When will they attack?

_ The... the Khabarovsk has a mission starting on the 6th of January, Dubov sobbed. They'll attack soon after their departure.

_ Who are the targets?

_ I don't know, I swear I don't know! he said in a panic. Avilov didn't trust me with the info, since it still had to be confirmed by his wife!

_ Samantha Jukov? How could she know?

_ I don't know, but I think she's a spy for Voron too, Dubov moaned. Please stop!

Sam let him go, and Dubov slumped on the back of his chair, bleeding profusely from both ears and moaning in pain.

Sam looked at Briggs who shook his head quietly. They had enough information for the moment, and a lot of work. So Sam gestured at him to go upstairs, and Briggs went to fetch Dr Collins. Then he opened the cuffs on Dubov's wrists and helped him on the cemented floor.

_ Okay, Nikolaï, we're done for now, he said gruffly. Our doc will come and treat your wounds, and he'll help you eat and drink. But know that if I have more questions for you, I won't hesitate any second to use my pliers again. Do you understand?

Dubov nodded fearfully, and Sam straightened up. He waited for the doc and Briggs, and soon heard their footsteps. He clapped Briggs on the back, and the ops nodded, staying with Dr Collins to watch over him. Then Sam exited the room, breathing heavily and longing for fresh air.

He ascended the stairs to the kitchen and went straight to the huge bay window in the living room. Grim raised her head when he entered and caught his stare. She stood up and went next to him, letting him open the bay a few inches and breathe the cold air, her hand on his back. He was grateful for her silent presence, he needed comfort but also quiet for a few minutes.

In the lounge, Kestrel, still lying on his sofa, was speaking in Russian, carefully articulating the words for Charlie to put Dubov's matching words in the right order. And soon the tech rejoiced:

_ We have fifteen sentences out of seventeen! That's so cool!

Sam smiled. The young tech was so full of enthusiasm it was heart-warming. He turned towards Grim and kissed her softly. She smiled at him, and just for a few seconds he forgot the heavy burden on their shoulders. They hugged tightly, and Sam buried his face in Grim's hair, but the magical moment ended when Briggs entered the room, grumbling.

_ That Voron bastard is a fucking asshole, but he sure knows a lot of things... Oh!

Briggs stopped dead in his tracks, and Sam looked up at him. The ops, flustered, was blushing, obviously embarrassed at having interrupted them. But Sam smiled wearily, pulling away from Grim with a last kiss.

_ Go on, Briggs. We must gather our info.

The three of them went back to the lounge, Charlie and Kestrel looking expectantly at them. So Sam told them what Dubov had revealed, helped by Briggs' notes. Kestrel, Sam noticed, was very pale but listened carefully. He was obviously shocked to hear about some of his former colleagues as Voron traitors. And when Sam finished talking, he shut his eyes and sighed deeply. Grim added darkly:

_ And Samantha Jukov is the mole in the Pentagon, I've just discovered it. We'll have to take care of her.

The silence was thick as maple syrup, and Sam didn't dare disturb it. He knew that in this matter Kestrel had the upper hand, even if he himself would have to take the decisions. He caught Grim's stare and saw she was preoccupied, like him, by who were the traitors and who weren't. It would be difficult to save the Russian president in those circumstances. Russia was a hostile country for them, with Voron so intent on killing them. But the war was looming into view, they simply couldn't stay idle.

Kestrel's calm voice shook him out of his thoughts.

_ We must meet Igor Kossiak as soon as possible and show him the recording.

Sam saw that Kestrel's eyes were fixed on him, gleaming with determination.

_ I agree, Briggs said. But how will we know if he's not going to betray us?

_ I'll meet him alone first, Kestrel said, with a communication device. So in the case he betrays me, I'll be the only one to die. You will still be able to stop Avilov and Sarto.

_ Kestrel, Grim said with concern, we can't let you take that risk. They want you dead. You've got much more to lose than any of us.

_ But I'm an ex-Voron ops, Kestrel said calmly. Even if I'm not with them anymore, the decade I spent there created bonds, and I'll use these bonds to our profit. Kossiak, though second-in-command, is a very old friend of mine. He'll listen to sense, I'm sure of it. But don't worry, I know who to trust and who not.

_ Who would you trust with this? Sam asked him grimly.

_ Aside from Igor? Let's see. I would blindly trust Marinov and Jdan, they're old friends of mine too. Valentina Stepankova and Cristina Nikonova, of course. The other Mikhail, Poliakov, and his close friend Kandinski. And I think I could count on Ivkin and Kniazev, who harbor a grudge against Avilov since a long time.

_ So that's seven ops and two women, Charlie counted. Not bad.

_ You can count eight ops, Kestrel smiled. Stepankova was one, the very first female one in Russian special forces, and she's still very fit, at least she was three years ago.

_ Do you want to phone Kossiak? Briggs asked him.

_ Yes, but to explain something like that we must be face to face. Where could we go to meet him?

Sam saw Kestrel look at him again, and thought about it. They would need a crowded place, out of Voron's sphere of influence, somewhere where he and Briggs could watch Kestrel's back. In no way would he let his ops be captured and tortured again by these Russian barbarians.

_ What about Bangkok? he suggested. Does Voron have a hideout there?

_ No, Kestrel said. At least they didn't have three years ago. The local NIA is very protective of the country's independance and thwarted every attempt at establishing a base there.

_ So it would be neutral territory, Sam said. Would Kossiak accept to meet us there?

_ Let's ask him, Kestrel said simply.

Sam saw him raise his legs and swing them, using their weight to raise his torso and reach a sitting position on the sofa. But the ops winced, putting his right hand on the brace cercling his neck.

_ Go easy, Kestrel, Grim said, concern on her face.

_ It's okay, he replied calmly, letting his hand fall on his knees. I'll be better tomorrow.

_ I hope so, Briggs said, standing up and fetching the secure phone on the living room table. You won't be able to do much with a broken arm, you know, mate?

_ I know.

Briggs handed him the phone, shooting him a puzzled glance, but Kestrel had his poker-faced expression on. He dialed the number and switched on the loudspeaker. After two ringings the line was picked up.

_ Да?

_ If everyone fought for their own convictions there would be no war, Kestrel said in Russian, quoting Tolstoi's War and Peace again.

_ What's the matter with you people? Kossiak said angrily. That's the fourth time I'm telling you I'm not interested in your hoovers, carpets or anything! And I'm not interested in your so-called second-generation computers either! Leave me alone!

The line went dead, and Kestrel, unfazed, hung up. Sam saw him raise his head and explain calmly:

_ He was with four ops and couldn't answer. He asked me to call him back in two hours.

_ Fine, Sam said, checking his OPSAT. It's 1.16 pm, so we'll go to the kitchen and have lunch. And at fifteen hundred we'll be ready to answer Avilov then phone back Kossiak.

The team nodded to him and got up. He followed them to the kitchen, where a delicious smell welcomed them. The nurse Anderson had cooked again for them, and she seemed specialized in Italian food, much to Sam's taste. They ate fabulous Milanese veal cutlets with pasta and vegetables, and a tiramisu for dessert.

Briggs kissed her to thank her, and the whole team complimented her. She was smiling timidly, and Sam caught a spark in Briggs' eyes he had never seen before. Maybe his ops had found true love at last, he thought. Then he caught Kestrel's stare, and saw a wistful smile on his face before resuming his poker-faced expression. Sam could see his other ops was happy for his teammate but also sad to have lost his own love.

He gently grabbed Grim's hand under the table and squeezed it. She shot him a loving look, and he silently told her how much he loved her, while stroking her hand. She smiled a little and seemed to understand. Then Sam said aloud, looking at his team:

_ Nap for everyone before the entertainment starts. Meet you in the living room at 2.50 pm.

He noticed that Briggs stayed in the kitchen to help his girlfriend clearing the table, that Dr Collins asked Kestrel how he was feeling and beckoned him to the lounge, and that Charlie went to sit in front of his laptop, obviously wanting to get on with his job. But Grim pulled on his hand, and he happily followed her to their bedroom.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

At precisely 2.43 pm, Sam walked back in the living room, followed by Grim. After a well-earned nap and some nice cuddling, they had a shower together and Sam felt ready to go back to work. Only Kestrel was there, asleep on his sofa, still looking like a half-restrained madman with the sling and the neck brace. But when Sam approached him softly, extending his hand to shake his shoulder, he started and awoke abruptly, seizing Sam's arm in a grip so strong Sam fought back a wince.

_ Whoa, sleepyhead! he said calmly. Relax! I didn't want to make you jump! Could you release me, please?

Kestrel, obviously awoken in the middle of an unpleasant dream, did not oblige at once. His eyes had trouble focusing on Sam, and he had a ferocious expression on his face. But when he recognized his boss, he opened his right hand and let go of Sam's arm.

_ Извините меня, Sam. _(I'm sorry)_

_ Bad dream? Sam asked, massaging his arm.

_ Yes.

Kestrel didn't elaborate, a grim expression on his face, and Sam didn't push him. He had a slight suspicion that the treason of Voron wasn't far from his ops' thoughts and nightmares, but he didn't want to rub salt into the wound. He offered his hand to him and helped him sit up on the sofa. Then he seated himself next to Grim on the opposite sofa as Briggs and Charlie were entering the room. Charlie sat in front of Grim, laptop oh his knees and Dubov's smartphone connected to it. He addressed Kestrel:

_ Do you remember the numbers of the sentences?

_ Yes, Kestrel answered. I'll sign the appropriate number to you.

_ Good.

_ Are you ready, both of you? Sam asked them seriously.

Charlie nodded gravely and Kestrel said "Yes". And at three o'clock sharp, the smartphone rang. Charlie picked up the line and put on the loudspeaker. Kestrel had told him that in these cases the caller was to speak first. Avilov's voice resonated in the room, and Sam found it very unpleasant, like a chalk on a blackboard.

_ Raven, Eagle there. Did you reach ckeckmate?

Kestrel signed the number four, and Charlie hastily pressed a key, so Dubov's fake answer appeared spontaneous and natural.

_ Kestrel wasn't there.

_ Where do the birds have their nest?

_ Voron's headquarters, Charlie made Dubov say, following Kestrel's number three sign.

Silence followed the simple word. Avilov clearly didn't expect the answer telling him that Dubov and Malkine were back to Russia, following Fourth Echelon.

_ Why haven't the raptors reported to the Eagle? Avilov asked with anger.

Kestrel signed twelve before Avilov finished his question, and Dubov answered him right on time.

_ The agents will be targeted, but I can't say anything more.

Avilov stayed silent for a few seconds, and Sam knew that the answer, telling Eagle that Fourth Echelon was aware of the two Voron ops and prevented them from communicating, was bothering him. Then Avilov spoke a last sentence, and Kestrel hastily signed one to Charlie.

_ The raptors will be contacted for the next hunt as planned.

_ Yes.

The line went dead, and Sam smiled. They wouldn't have to worry until the next day. He waited for Charlie to track down Avilov's phone and nodded at Kestrel. The ops wiped out some sweat on his forehead, breathing deeply, then smiled back.

_ Got him! Charlie said at last. He's back in Russia, thank God!

_ Well done, you two! Sam rejoiced. That was really good work, and you've bought us precious time. So let's take advantage of it.

_ Hang on, Kestrel said, eyebrows furrowed. Where is Avilov in Russia exactly?

Charlie zoomed in on the map displayed on his laptop, frowning in concentration, then announced, articulating with difficulty:

_ Saint Petersburg. Vassilievski island. If you want a more precise street, I'll...

_ No need, Kestrel said calmly. Avilov is at Voron's headquarters there, so Kossiak isn't there, probably in Moscow. That's standard security procedure in case one of the headquarters is under attack.

_ So Voron's headquarters in St Petersburg are there, Sam said thoughtfully. That could be interesting.

Kestrel had a joyless smile.

_ If you really want to know, Sam, Voron has eleven hideouts, aside from the headquarters, in the lone city of Saint Petersburg. And the main headquarters are in Moscow among fifteen hideouts.

_ Oh!

_ Yes, Kestrel said apologetically. I'm afraid Russian spies are a lot more paranoid than American ones.

_ That doesn't surprise me, Briggs said darkly.

_ Okay, Sam said. Let's get back to the problem at hand.

He caught Kestrel's stare, and the ops grabbed the phone at his feet. He dialed Kossiak's number, and the line was picked up after two ringings.

_ Da?

_ If you look for perfection, you'll never be content, Kestrel said in Russian.

_ Tolstoi, my favourite author, Kossiak said calmly. I have a book written by him in my bookcase, you're lucky. And it's Anna Karenina, what a coincidence.

_ Hi, Falcon. So you checked my story, I hear.

_ Yes, and you were right, Kestrel. I owe you an apology for calling you a liar.

_ I have a lot to tell you, Falcon. Bad news.

_ Me too, Kestrel. The thing is, many Voron ops support Eagle. I don't know who to trust, except Kite. And I'm not a hundred percent sure I can trust you either.

_ I understand that, Kestrel replied calmly. I'm in the same situation. But if we don't work together the war is inevitable, and that is unacceptable, Falcon. Would you agree to meet me and my team?

_ No, not your team, Kestrel. You alone if you want, and unarmed.

_ Okay, but the same applies to you, Falcon.

_ Where do you want to meet? Not in the US, I refuse.

_ And not in Russia. I was thinking about neutral territory. Ideas?

_ How about Indonesia?

_ Yep, maybe. Or Thailand?

_ Bangkok? Why not?

_ Okay, a busy plaza, then.

_ Of course, Kossiak said. Better for the two of us.

_ Yes, but it's not you who's bothering me, Falcon. I risk my life with this meeting, I do hope you realize it. If Voron knows about it...

_ I won't tell them, Michka. I swear on my twin brother's grave.

Sam saw Kestrel's eyes darken in sadness. He had also lost his best friend Ivan, Igor Kossiak's twin.

_ But what if your team captures me, Michka? Can I trust you?

_ I swear on my love's ashes that are in this bloody sunken submarine that me or my team mean you no harm, Igor, Kestrel said solemnly. I just want to talk to you and see if we can help each other.

_ Okay, I trust your word, Kossiak said finally. When can you be in Bangkok?

_ Let's see, Kestrel thought aloud. We're on January 2th, and in Thailand...

Sam signed "four" with his right hand, and Kestrel gave him the thumbs-up, adding:

_ Right, let's meet on the 4th at 9 am for the local time, agreed?

_ Okay, Kossiak answered. Victory Monument, does that suit you?

_ Yes, Kestrel acknoweledged, knowing the place.

_ Right, I can't stay any longer. See you in two days, Michka.

_ Take care, Igor.

The line went dead, and Kestrel hung up, worry on his face. Sam wanted to comfort him, but he didn't know what to say, except maybe...

_ Don't worry, Kestrel, he said at last. You won't be alone. Briggs and I won't be far from you, we'll blend in the crowd. I know Victory Monument, a good choice.

Kestrel simply looked at him and blinked once, since he couldn't nod. Sam asked him:

_ Who is Kite? Valentina Stepankova?

_ Yes, Kestrel confirmed. My former supervisory agent is a legend among Voron ops. It is said, though she never confirmed it, that she met you in Moscow some twenty years ago but didn't realize who you were before it was too late and you already gone.

_ Really? Sam was astonished. And what was I doing in Moscow twenty years ago? My God, _twenty_ years ago?

_ She never said anything about it, Kestrel smirked, but the rumours circulating among the ops state that you were spying the director of the GRU, and that she was supposed to prevent you from doing so, but she failed. You supposedly recorded a conversation in the director's bedroom by hanging from the balcony fifty meters above ground, and when she saw you it was too late, you had disappeared like a ghost. You see, Kestrel beamed at him, your fame in Russia is quite old.

_ I'll take it as a compliment and not a brutal reminder of my approaching sixties, Sam grumbled, making everybody laugh at his disgruntled expression. Right, we'll leave the chalet first thing tomorrow, so gather your belongings and do some housework.

The team got up and soon dispersed in the chalet, and Sam sighed inwardly. The few days they had spent there had been so tense and full of surprises that he doubted his team had had enough rest. But it would have to do. They had a war between two major countries to avoid, and another one to wage against some traitors in Voron. And he wouldn't bet on which one would be the bloodiest if the two happened.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 38 coming soon! ;)


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The afternoon and evening were uneventful, and Kestrel went to lie on his sofa just after dinner, as it was to be his bed since he couldn't go upstairs. He asked a sympathetic Briggs to help him remove his boots and give him a blanket, then put his head on the sofa and meant to fall asleep soon. But sleep didn't find him, as his mind was full of questions and assumptions.

He looked forward to his meeting with Kossiak and dreaded it at the same time. What if Igor betrayed him? What if their old friendship had disappeared? And the hardships maybe changed him, leaving him unrecognizable by his best friend's twin brother. But most of all he worried about the attack of the submarine on American boats and on Sarto's plan to murder the Russian president. He sensed that if Fourth Echelon and the loyal Voron ops didn't unite to counter this threat, it would lead to a full-scale and terrible war. Russia and America's relations were not at their best, the distrust was deep. So any spark could ignite the resentment and transform it into World War III.

But blocking their path were Avilov, Fedorova and Sarto, along with all the Voron ops following them by conviction or simply blindly obeying their commander. Telling who was following blindly would be tricky but essential, and Kestrel knew that Kossiak would need him and his team for that.

Restlessly moving on his sofa, Kestrel felt uncomfortable with the large neck brace, and he decided to try and remove it, even if he had to regret it later. But the bloody thing was too stiff and hurt him, so he opened it and removed it with his free hand. He then carefully moved his head and was surprised to feel no pain in his neck.

Shrugging inwardly and rejoicing at the relief, he lay down again, checking the time on his OPSAT. He read 23.58 and groaned softly. His sleep would be short. But without the brace, he soon relaxed and felt his eyelids close. In no time he was asleep, but the nightmares assaulted him, and when his OPSAT nudged him at 6 am, he awoke from a fretful night, his mind quite in disarray. He got up, twisted and turned his head and was happy not to feel any pain in his neck. After a detour to the bathroom, he got to the kitchen and prepared the coffee. With only one hand free it was quite a challenge but he succeeded and set the table for breakfast.

The coffee was ready when Sam and Grim entered the room, looking rested but preoccupied.

_ Hi, he greeted them.

_ Hi, Kestrel, Sam said, imitated by Grim. Where's your neck brace?

_ On the sofa. I removed it yesterday, couldn't sleep with it.

_ What about your neck? Sam's eyebrows knitted.

_ Feels better, thanks.

Sam didn't elaborate, but Kestrel saw disapproval etched on his face. At that point the three of them heard hurried footsteps in the stairs, and soon Charlie ran into the kitchen, concern on his face and his laptop under an arm.

_ Hi! he said breathlessly. I've found trouble!

_ What? Sam asked, puzzled.

_ Do you remember Fedorova's encrypted emails to Esteban? The guy who ordered the theft of Alpha's body?

_ Yes, Kestrel said, his guts tightening in anger.

_ Take a seat, because you won't like what they say, Charlie warned his team grimly as Briggs came into the room. I decoded them during the night.

_ What do they say? Grim asked, eyebrows furrowed.

_ Fedorova and Sarto are using Avilov and the Voron ops as henchmen for the dirty work, and they'll be the scapegoats in case things turn bad for them, Charlie explained. Fedorova asked Esteban to steal Alpha's body months ago and betrayed Vikachev, who was supposed to escape with her. They had planned Kestrel's shooting to meet us in El Paso, but Fedorova was supposed to cover him after he shot Kestrel.

_ So that's why he acted so strangely, Sam said thoughtfully. He wasn't the suicidal type, it puzzled me. So the fucking bitch betrayed him, huh?

_ Yes, Charlie said, and she probably lied to Avilov and Voron about it. In Voron's database we now have in our laptops I found her mission report. I don't understand Russian, so I can't confirm it, but I'd bet on a nice pile of shit.

_ Do you have it here? Kestrel asked him calmly, hiding his blinding rage under his usual poker face.

Charlie put his laptop on the table and switched it on. In less than a minute he beckoned at Kestrel to come and sit down in front of it, and the ops did. He read the cyrillic report, translating it at the same time, fists clenched.

_ Mission report of agent Buzzard in San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico, December 29th 2015. Agent Hawk and I captured the traitor Kestrel in the mansion of Juan Esteban, the drug dealer who had the body of the traitor's girlfriend stolen in Baltimore. As planned, Kestrel showed up to retrieve it, so we laid hands on him.

At this point Kestrel stopped, inhaling deeply to force down his furor, and closed his eyes. He counted to twenty, breathing slowly and deeply, allowing his tense muscles to relax. It was done, he thought, Alpha's body was now a pile of ashes in a sunken Russian submarine, and he couldn't do anything about it. Concentrate, Kestrel, he thought. Vengeance upon that bitch would be sweet indeed.

He opened his eyes and caught Sam's concerned stare. He nodded at him and went back to the translation.

_ Vikachev started the interrogation of Kestrel before I came back from the scouting of our hideout, and when I entered the building, I saw that two ops were already attacking him. Agent Hawk had had time to shoot Kestrel in the back as planned, but even if I rushed forward and shot at the ops one of them killed him. So I made the coffin explode and retreated to the other hideout, observing what would follow. The two ops carried the traitor in the back of a van and hurriedly left, and I just had time to bring agent Hawk's body and his gear to my own van before the Mexican police arrived. I followed them discreetly, disguised as a crime scene tech, and stole the ashes of Kestrel's girlfriend for later use, then took the first plane to Russia.

Written upon request of Supervisory Director Arkadiy Pavlov by agent Buzzard, Nataliya Viktorovna Fedorova.

Kestrel fell silent at last, disgust and revolt churning his stomach. His anger was reaching boiling point, and his vision was turning red. Worst of all, his hands were shaking so badly, even the one against his chest, that he failed to grab the mug of coffee Grim had poured him, and it made him snap. But before losing control, he had the presence of mind to run out of the room and wrench open the front door, lashing out outside.

He howled in fury, swearing in Russian and cursing Fedorova, Avilov, Sarto, Esteban, Dubov, while running at top speed down the dirt path. The snow had started to melt, and was only a couple of inches deep. The temperature was mild, even if it was still dark, and no wind rustled the branches of the fir trees.

Blind to everything except his rage and thirst for vengeance, he ran so far from the chalet that he arrived to a large clearing where trees were cut down to make planks. Fortunately the site was deserted, but the view calmed him down. The sun was about to rise, and he remembered that the team had to go back to the Paladin to fly to Thailand.

Breathing heavily and sweating hard, he turned round and trotted back to the chalet, noticing only now that his left arm in the sling was making him lopsided and not running efficiently. But he concentrated on calming down and while running he emptied his mind, letting go of his emotions, focusing on the jobs ahead of him. And he swore to himself that as soon as the mission was done, he would go on a meditation course with the Shaolin monks to learn how to control his bad temper.

When the chalet loomed into view, he saw Sam waiting for him at the base of the front steps, looking relieved to see him coming back. He halted next to him, wiping his sweaty forehead and neck and doubling over to find a steady breathing again. He knew he had run more than fifteen kilometers but didn't know how many exactly.

Sam waited patiently for him to catch his breath, then asked him:

_ Feeling better?

_ Yes, thanks. Sorry.

Sam dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand.

_ Don't be. I prefer when you go take out your anger by running than by destroying our furniture.

Kestrel nodded, feeling slightly ashamed. He knew he could have a nasty temper sometimes, and that reinforced his decision to master his nerves completely. But Sam had something more to say, and it was obviously bad news. The ops saw him hesitate, then open his mouth and close it.

_ Sam, I don't bite, Kestrel said with a half-smile. Tell me what you want to say.

Sam bit his lip, then said darkly:

_ Dubov is dead.

Kestrel felt his eyebrows knit in concern.

_ How did it happen?

_ Suicide, Sam rumbled angrily. He throttled himself with his handcuffs. The local police will pick up his body, and Malkine's one.

_ He has always been a wimp, Kestrel said, but I would never have thought he'd have the courage to kill himself.

_ That's cowardice, Sam spat, nothing else. He chose the easy way to escape his fate.

_ No, Sam, Kestrel said softly. It takes a lot of courage to kill oneself. That I can assure you.

Sam looked at him with confusion and blushed, but Kestrel didn't care. He knew what Dubov had felt when about to end his life, as he himself had felt it barely days ago. The courage it had required then to pull the trigger was enormous, and even if he didn't feel remotely suicidal anymore, the ordeal had left a permanent scar in his mind.

To change the subject he asked his boss:

_ Are we leaving soon?

_ We were waiting for you, Sam said after regaining composure.

_ But my clothes...

_ … are packed in your bag with your pistol, Sam finished. Briggs did it yesterday evening.

_ Thanks, Kestrel said. I'll thank him too when I see him. And I really want to be normal again and not fall in every staircase I'll go down.

_ So do I. We'll work on it during the flight to Bangkok.

Kestrel fell silent, but he knew the path to be fully himself again would be long and hard. His physical problems would soon disappear, but his mind, even if better than when he first came in the chalet, was not completely mended. And he needed time for that.

_ Sam, Kestrel exhaled at last. Promise me and the team that when we're done with this madness you'll give us a month of holidays. I think we all desperately need it.

_ I couldn't agree more, Sam said, and Kestrel saw his weariness show. And I promise you, Kestrel, that we'll all be off-duty for a month at least. I swore it to Grim too, she's at the end of her tether. But what will you do when on holiday?

_ I have a few ideas, Kestrel smiled. But I think I'll visit countries. Some places I don't know yet, or maybe some I went to, but in the skin of a tourist this time.

_ Good program, Sam approved. But in the meantime, we have a job to do, and it won't be a walk in the park.

_ No, it won't.

_ Right, Sam said, let's get inside and gather our things. We'll leave in a few minutes.

_ Sam? About Fedorova...

Kestrel locked eyes with the Splinter Cell and saw the worry in his eyes.

_ We'll talk about it aboard the Paladin, Sam said. We need a meeting to take stock of all we know and prepare your encounter with Kossiak.

Kestrel nodded and followed his boss inside the chalet. The team was in the hall, bags at their feet, obviously waiting for them. Kestrel thanked Briggs who smiled, grabbed his bag with his free hand and followed him to the SUVs.

The team piled up in the two cars, and soon Kestrel lost the view of the chalet. He was quite happy to leave it, even if he would miss the quiet and the waterfall. But that place would always be a sad memory for him, the place where he felt so desperate that he thought about committing suicide.

An hour later they reached the airport of Boise and climbed the ramp of the Paladin. And when Kestrel opened the door of his cabin and saw Alpha's photo on the wall, he sighed deeply.

_ Hello, my love, he murmured, putting the bag on his bed and opening it. I have much to tell you, but I'm afraid it'll have to wait. I have a vengeance to wreak on some Voron bastards and a war to prevent.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

After putting back his clothes and toiletries in the locker of his cabin, Kestrel went to the cargo hold and laid down his pistol, then headed for the control room. He bumped into Dr Collins in the corridor, who said:

_ Agent Kestrel, about your broken arm...

_ Later, doc, please, Kestrel cut him softly. I have a meeting to attend.

_ And I have your bones to set back, Dr Collins said firmly. If you want to go in a mission tomorrow, I'll have your arm in a cast first, and I won't take no for an answer. You're a fast healer, agent Kestrel, but even you need a few days to mend broken bones.

_ I don't say no, doc, Kestrel said, spotting Sam at the end of the corridor, and I promise you that as soon as we are done with the debrief I'll come straight to the infirmary. But the team is waiting, and...

_ Bullshit, agent Kestrel! I'll have you in surgery now, that's top priority!

_ Doc, Sam said, having heard the conversation and come to his ops' rescue. Kestrel isn't lying, we're waiting for him. But don't worry, we'll keep him for about an hour, then I swear I'll send him to the infirmary.

_ I have your word, Sam? Dr Collins asked suspiciously.

_ You have, Sam said solemnly. But we really need him right now.

The doctor didn't look happy about it, but he gave up.

_ Okay, agent Kestrel. I give you an hour for your meeting, but after that you come to the infirmary of your own free will or I'll drag you there with a sleeping dart sticking out of your ass.

_ Copy, doc, Kestrel said, his mouth twitching, Sam silently laughing behind the doc's back.

Dr Collins shot him a last hard look then retreated to the infirmary, slamming the door behind him. Kestrel hurriedly followed Sam to the control room, and burst out laughing just in time for Briggs to close the door behind him. Sam and him were laughing so hard Kestrel felt tears on his cheeks, and he hugged his stomach. Sam collapsed on a chair, hugging his stomach too, laughter so contagious that soon the entire crew was laughing without knowing why.

The fit of the giggles went on for about five minutes before Kestrel could wipe his tears and breathe deeply. He inhaled and turned to Sam, who was trying to regain composure.

_ We should get started, Sam. I don't want the doc shooting a sleeping dart in my butt.

Sam snorted and burst out laughing harder than ever, this time followed by Grim, Briggs and Charlie who understood the cause of hilarity. Kestrel couldn't keep a straight face, and they wasted another five minutes laughing before Sam took a grip.

_ Okay, good time, he said to the team, but we really ought to go back to work.

_ Yes, Kestrel said. I have an appointment in fifty minutes.

Sam's mouth twitched again, but he fought back the laughter, and Kestrel went to stand next to the SMI, the team following his example.

_ So, Kestrel asked them, concentrating on the mission, Fedorova lied to Voron?

The question put a neat damper on the team's spirit who focused back on the problems at hand.

_ Yes, Sam answered, seriousness back on his face. She never shot us when we rescued you, that was a lie. But the rest of her report is true. She's smart indeed, she knows how to cover her tracks.

_ So she's in league with Sarto and Esteban, and is using Avilov and Voron as puppets?

_ Yes, Charlie said. Those emails were quite clear, no wonder they were so heavily encrypted. It would be bad for her if Voron learned she was double-crossing them.

_ She's playing a very dangerous game, Briggs said grimly. If Avilov is aware of her treason...

_ It won't change anything, Kestrel said darkly. Avilov wants the Russian president dead, he won't be reasoned to our side. But the problem will be for us: we have two distinct enemies instead of one, both aware of us and wanting us dead, and me especially.

_ And we still must determine who in Voron's ranks is on our side and who isn't, Briggs said.

_ And who's with Avilov and who's with Fedorova, Grim added seriously.

_ Scylla and Charybdis, Sam muttered, frowning.

_ Maybe I can help you with that, Kestrel suggested, setting his determination on the task, pushing his emotions in the back of his mind. I know a lot of Voron ops, I could tell you who would rather follow Fedorova than Avilov. And Charlie and Grim can check if I'm right by locating them.

_ Good idea, Sam approved. Charlie, do you have the map of the Voron ops?

_ Yes, the tech said, connecting his laptop to the SMI. Just a minute... There!

Kestrel and the team turned to the big screen displaying the SMI's images, showing a world's map with red dots. Kestrel could see the usual dots indicating the Voron ops passing as diplomats in the embassies around the world, but about twenty dots were gathered in Russia, a few in Moscow and a lot more in Saint Petersburg. Bad news.

_ Kestrel? Sam asked, obviously seeing the uneasiness of his ops.

_ This is not right, Kestrel muttered, concern in his guts. In no way the ops are to be gathered in two places in such a number. It's against all safety rules for spies like us.

_ I agree, Sam said. But why take such a risk? Avilov is in Saint Petersburg, maybe he's preparing the two attacks.

_ And Kossiak must be in Moscow, at Voron's headquarters, Kestrel said. Charlie, who's with him?

_ Let's see, Charlie said, zooming in on Russia. So, in Moscow, we have...

The screen showed five dots, and Briggs read them aloud.

_ Igor Kossiak, Cristina Nikonova, Valentina Stepankova, Mikhail Poliakov and Arseniy Kandinski. Are they our allies?

_ I think so, Kestrel said, fighting back the memories flooding his mind. Jdan and Marinov should be on the list, and maybe Kniazev and Ivkin, but they were accompanying Avilov, Dubov told me so. I suppose they're in Saint Petersburg?

_ Yes, Charlie confirmed. But we have small groups in Saint Petersburg, they're not all in the same place.

_ Tell me, Kestrel said.

_ Okay, Charlie said, focusing on the map of the city. We have Avilov and Pavlov in Voron's headquarters with Beria, Lebedeva, Dmitriev, Barytchev, Glazkov and Kraiev. We have a second group near the Winter Palace with Fedorova, Asthakova, Diatlova, Voronkov and Muratov. And we have a third in a building near the Alexander Nevsky bridge with Marinov, Jdan, Kniazev and Ivkin.

_ The building is a hideout we have in the area, Kestrel explained. And I'd bet they met there to be out of Avilov's eyes and ears.

_ And Fedorova's, Sam added seriously. Is it her group near the Winter Palace?

_ Must be, Kestrel answered. Unfortunately, I don't know the half of them. Only Voronkov and Muratov, and these two are first-class scum.

_ It's Voronkov who is supposed to shoot the president Terekhov, Grim reminded the team. If he's with Fedorova we can expect foul play.

_ That is why it's essential you convince Kossiak to help us tomorow, Kestrel, Sam said seriously, catching his look.

Kestrel nodded, knowing that success or failure was at stake with this meeting. And the time they had left to do it was also worrying him.

_ Dubov told you the Khabarovsk would proceed to sea on the 6th, only three days from now, and the meeting of Terekhov will happen on the 7th . Do we have enough time?

_ No, Grim shook her head dejectedly. The lone operation to booby-trap the Chkval aboard the Khabarovsk will take several days to plan, as we have no data at all. And about the Russian president's meeting, it's even worse. We don't know anything. We need time.

_ We don't have any, Sam said grimly. That's why we must share the tasks with Kossiak and his men.

_ What do you mean? Briggs asked him, puzzled.

_ We'll plan the mission on the Khabarovsk, and we'll start it right now. And we'll leave the planning of Terekhov's protection to Kossiak. After all, he's the one really in charge of it.

_ But we need him to infiltrate the harbour of the Khabarovsk, and we still don't know which it is, Briggs objected.

_ I only talked about planning, Sam said. If we can, we'll do the two missions together, joint operations between Fourth Echelon and loyal Voron.

_ Sometimes joint operations turn badly, Kestrel said gloomily, as Archer's last breath crept in his mind, leaving crushing guilt and sadness in its wake.

_ This time it will be okay, Sam faced him, determination ringing in his words. We won't let you down, Kestrel.

_ I know, the ops murmured. It's just...

He shook his head, trying to chase the bad memories away. He had wanted to visit Archer's last resting place in Malta but still hadn't had the time between all Fourth Echelon missions. And of course going to Malta would mean being close to Kobin, and Kestrel wasn't sure he could restrain himself enough for not killing the son of a bitch.

A hand on his free arm shook him out of his bitter thoughts, and he turned to face Grim.

_ Are you okay, Kestrel? she asked softly, looking concerned.

_ Yes. Forgive me, I was...

His voice trailed off, and he fought the emotion rising in his chest. So much had happened since that dreadful joint operation and Archer's death it gave him vertigo. He leaned on the SMI, his arm helping him staying standing.

_ We understand, mate. Don't worry, Briggs said calmly. Perhaps you should have your arm set right now, so you'll get rid of it. And we'll get started.

_ Good suggestion, Briggs, Sam said, but I'd have liked seeing Dr Collins with a pistol running after Kestrel in the control room to shoot him a sleeping dart.

Kestrel smiled, grateful for Sam's light tone and joke. He felt better to be with trusting people who accepted him even with his tormented past and his nasty temper. And when he left the room, heading for the infirmary, Sam clapped him lightly on the shoulder and Grim gave him an encouraging smile.

When he knocked on the infirmary's door, the nurse Anderson opened it.

_ Hi, agent Kestrel! she said brightly. We were waiting for you. Please come in.

He stepped inside and saw Dr Collins shooting a glance at the clock on the wall.

_ You're right on time, agent Kestrel. Please sit down on the bed here.

He indicated the bed behind him, and obediently Kestrel sat down on it. The doc carefully removed his sling, then X-rayed his upper arm, where the humerus had been fractured. His eyebrows arched in surprise.

_ But... the bone is almost mended!

_ That's good news, Kestrel said at last. It means I'll be able to use my arm soon, doesn't it?

_ Yes, Dr Collins said grudgingly. But you'll have to keep the sling for tomorrow at least, then I'll X-ray your arm again.

_ Okay, Kestrel nodded.

The doc put back his arm in the sling, then asked him seriously:

_ Your body is mending fast, but how is your mind, agent Kestrel?

Kestrel saw the doc's grey eyes looking straight into his, searching and questioning. And Kestrel decided to answer him honestly since he had taken great care of him since he joined Fourth Echelon.

_ Not mended yet, doc. I need holidays, and time.

Dr Collins nodded, then said gently:

_ That's the best remedy for you, agent Kestrel. But you're aware of it, so I'd say you're healing fast on this matter too.

Kestrel thanked him then left, backtracking to the control room. He still had a lot of work to do.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 40 (already!) coming soon!


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

The flight from Boise to Bangkok took twelve hours, so by the time they arrived in Thailand it was nearly 8 am on the 4th of January. Fortunately for them, Kestrel had taken the necessary time to rest before his meeting with Kossiak while his team prepared the next mission with the submarine. He wouldn't be armed while meeting his old friend, but he would be connected to them via the crucifix pendant he had worn nearly two years ago in Atlanta. And of course Sam and Briggs would accompany him and hide not far from Victory Monument in case of emergency, Sam wouldn't have it otherwise.

_ We'll be next to you, Kestrel, he had stated firmly, a harsh gleam in his green eyes. I won't leave you alone with your friend, no way. If he double-crosses you, I want to blow up his head. You won't be in Voron's clutches again, I swear.

Kestrel had felt warm in his heart, and he had accepted. And now, in the backseat of the rented car driven by Briggs heading to downtown Bangkok, he fought the souvenirs flooding back his mind, but it wasn't easy. He had done several missions in Bangkok, most of them with Ivan Kossiak, and the memories were bittersweet ones. But he concentrated on the present time, breathing deeply and emptying his mind of all emotions.

Between the Suvarnabhumi airport and Victory Monument, traffic was clogged, and by the time Briggs reached the giant obelisk with the statues in the center of the plaza it was 8.55 am. Kestrel climbed out of the car and heard Sam say:

_ We'll park in a nearby street and stay on alert. If you need a fast exit run south among the pedestrians and we'll catch you up in Phaya Thai Road.

_ Copy.

_ Good luck, Briggs said as Kestrel closed the door.

The car sped away and Kestrel, sweating a little under the already baking summer sun, started to walk casually around the monument, surreptitiously observing his surroundings. He knew by heart the methods of the Voron ops and simply waited for Kossiak to catch up with him. And soon enough, he felt a stare in his back and a familiar presence approaching. He stopped next to a bus stop and said softly in Russian:

_ Hi, Igor. You're late.

_ Perceptive as always, Michka, said the voice in his back. I wonder if I'll ever surprise you.

_ Who knows? Kestrel said, turning around and facing his old friend.

Igor Kossiak was like Kestrel remembered him, except for a brand-new scar on his upper lip and a hard gleam in his pale blue eyes. The close-cropped blond hair and ascetic features were the same as ever, and his rather small height didn't mask his fit build. Kossiak raised an eyebrow at the sight of his sling and his face.

_ The beard suits you, but I wasn't expecting you in a sling.

_ Don't worry, it's temporary. I'll have the use of my arm back tomorrow.

_ What happened to you?

_ Broken arm, Kestrel simply said.

Kossiak stayed silent for a few seconds, and Kestrel saw the distress his friend was trying to hide behind a guarded expression. He noticed a small pin in Kossiak's collar too, and the shadow of a smile played on his lips. So far the game was fair.

_ Let's walk, Kossiak said at last. I don't like staying too long in the same place.

_ Are you followed?

_ To tell you the truth, I think so, Kossiak murmured, shooting careful glances around him as they walked casually. I'm positive my line isn't bugged, but I've had this feeling since I arrived here...

_ Yes, that small voice in the back of your head, Kestrel nodded thoughtfully. Your sixth sense.

_ Something like that, and I don't like it.

_ Neither do I. I risk my life with you here, but if Voron sees you with me...

_ Then we're both done for, Kossiak finished grimly. So let's get on with it. What did you have to tell me?

_ The war will start in three or four days, Kestrel said quietly, as soon as the submarine Khabarovsk reaches his American targets. But even worse, the president Terekhov will be assassinated in three days in Saint Petersburg.

_ It just confirms some rumours I've heard, Kossiak said grimly. Avilov is raving mad, Kestrel, but I can't oppose him alone. Very few people are on my side against him, and I don't know who else to trust.

_ And Voron is infiltrated by Meggido too. Fedorova's in league with Sarto, the new leader, and some Voron ops are with them.

_ About Fedorova I knew, and it concerns me seriously. But do you know who are the others?

_ Yes, Kestrel said. At least I have strong suspicions. Me and my team tracked them down.

_ What are their intentions? Are they with Avilov?

_ Not really. In fact, they're using Avilov as a handman, then he'll be a scapegoat. Just like you.

_ What about me? Kossiak asked in surprise.

_ Avilov wants to be the new SVR director, doesn't he?

_ Yes, but...

_ And of the Voron four, only one supports him, true?

_ Yes, that Pavlov creep. But I don't see...

_ Avilov burdened you with Terekhov's protection for a very good reason, Kestrel cut him, staring at his friend. He wants the president assassinated the day you're in charge to pretend you killed him and have you, Stepankova and Nikonova executed for treason.

Kossiak stopped dead in his tracks, turning pale.

_ How do you know this? he asked weakly.

_ Dubov, Kestrel said darkly. He and Malkine attacked us in the US, and we captured him. I... persuaded him to talk.

Kossiak didn't comment, he knew how his old friend persuaded his targets to talk.

_ Where is Dubov now? Kossiak asked again as they resumed their walk.

_ He's dead. Killed himself. Malkine was shot during the attack.

_ I hated them both, Kossiak spat suddenly. Bastards! I'm glad they're dead.

_ We'll have some talk to do after all this, Kestrel said softly, wondering why his friend was so vehement.

_ Indeed, Kossiak said, riveting his eyes into Kestrel's one. I want to know more about your life since you escaped, and about your dead girlfriend.

Kestrel hung his head, his guts clutching in pain and sadness. He would have a lot to say to his old friend, but the time wasn't ripe.

_ Next time, maybe, he murmured, trying to force down his dismay. But now we had some serious work to do. We need your help.

_ What can I do? Kossiak said sourly. I'm bound hand and foot. One false step and I'm as good as dead.

_ I need you to find in which harbour is the Khabarovsk and help me and a friend of mine infiltrate it.

_ What for? You want to sink it?

_ No. I want to booby-trap the twenty Voron Chkval aboard.

Kossiak fell silent again, and Kestrel saw him thinking hard. Then his old friend inhaled a sharp breath, then said:

_ How can I trust you, Michka?

_ I'm afraid you'll have to find the answer to that question alone, Igor, Kestrel said gently. As for me, I trust you since I'm here and talking to you. And I can help you protecting the president in Saint Petersburg.

_ You would do that? Why?

_ I have several reasons. First, Terekhov's murder would rush the war, and the whole point of my job is to avoid it at all costs. Second, I do want to stop Avilov's madness and Meggido's evil plans to seize power. And third, he added with a quick glance at his friend, I don't want an old friend and some good people executed for a crime they didn't commit.

Kossiak locked eyes with him, and a faint smile played on his lips.

_ As usual I can see you're not lying, Michka. I'm lucky you're still my friend in spite of everything Voron did to you.

_ I know what it's like to be betrayed, Kestrel said simply, keeping his voice neutral. I don't want it happening to you, Stepankova or Nikonova.

_ That's good, Kossiak smiled. In that case, I'll...

Grim's urgent voice resonated in Kestrel's ear.

_ Kestrel! A sniper! Northern corner of the plaza! He's targeting you!

Kestrel swiftly jumped, pushing aside Kossiak as a bullet whizzed past his head, grazing his cheek. Another one hit the pavement a few inches from Kossiak's hand, and they both scrambled behind the bus shelter three meters away. Some people shot them a puzzled look, but Kestrel wiped the blood off his cheek and pretended to be fainting, Kossiak playing along.

_ Hey, buddy? he asked in English. What's happening to you? Too much alcohol?

Kestrel nodded, noticing that a policeman was approaching them. He whispered in his subdermal implant.

_ Sam? Briggs? Need the car, fast.

Kossiak was whispering in his pin too, and Kestrel caught the words "catch this bastard alive". He smiled faintly.

_ Lucky us to have our teams watching our backs. The car is coming.

_ Right. And my team has located the sniper, on a building roof north of here. They'll try and capture him.

_ Good. Where do we meet?

_ It's me and my team that were followed, Kossiak admitted urgently, as the policeman was five meters away. We'll regroup at your place.

_ Hey! the policeman called out. Are you okay?

_ Yes, thanks, Kossiak said while Kestrel played the drunk man. My friend overindulged in whisky, that's all. Our friends are coming to pick us up.

The policeman eyed them suspiciously, but a few seconds later Briggs parked next to them, and Sam, sunglasses on, climbed down and said in accented English:

_ Martin, drunk again? I'll have you on a plane right back to Los Angeles in no time. Please excuse us, officer.

Kestrel, playing his role, lolled his head and half-closed his eyes. Kossiak and Sam gripped him under his shoulders and shoved him on the backseat, then Sam said a last word of excuse to the disapproving policeman before they hastily left. Briggs sped away, and Kestrel introduced his friend.

_ Briggs, Sam, meet my old friend Igor Kossiak. Igor, meet Isaac Briggs and Sam Fisher.

_ _The_ Sam Fisher? Kossiak looked stunned.

_ In the flesh, Sam said with a smile. Pleased to meet you, agent Kossiak, even if in those shit circumstances.

_ Call me Igor. And please go to the building where...

_ In a handful of seconds we'll be there, Briggs announced. So we'll meet your team, huh? I wonder who's this fucking sniper.

_ I hope it's not a Voron ops, Kestrel said, that would mean we're too late to stop the attacks.

_ It could be someone on Fedorova's side, Sam said seriously. She's playing a risky gamble, she won't blow up her cover even if we catch one of her men. Let's cross our fingers.

Briggs stopped at the foot of a high building just as a tall woman was exiting it. Kestrel recognized the gracious features and the long nose, and said while climbing out:

_ Hi Cristina! Did you catch him?

_ Mikhail! she said in surprise. I wouldn't have recognized you with this beard! And yes, we caught him, wounded but alive.

_ Good, Kossiak said. Where is the van?

_ Valentina parked it behind the building, she's waiting for us, Cristina said. But Igor...

_ I know, we can't go back to our hideout. We'll go with them.

He gestured at Kestrel, Sam and Briggs, and Cristina Nikonova nodded.

_ Very well. We'll make introductions later.

_ Meet you at Suvarnabhumi airport, hangar 14, Sam said.

Kossiak nodded then ran with Cristina around the building, while the Fourth Echelon team climbed back into the car and sped away, their mind full of new questions and few answers.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Briggs let them out of the car, in front of the hangar 14 where the Paladin had been moved, before returning it to the rent station. Sam got out then took the time to check on Kestrel. The ops' cheek was burned by the bullet that almost killed him, but otherwise he looked like his usual self, calm and poker-faced. However Sam noticed a small spark in his eyes, a glint of anger and fury that told him he wasn't as calm as he was letting on. So Sam decided to take matters out of his hands and relieve him of the pressure.

_ Kestrel, I'll handle this, he said seriously. Please let me explain the situation to your friends.

_ You're the boss, Kestrel replied calmly, locking eyes with him.

_ I know you're torn between your old friendship with Kossiak and your loyalties to us, Sam stated evenly. But the two things are quite compatible if you don't forget who you are.

Sam saw Kestrel's fists clench and his jaws tighten. Poor choice of words, he thought immediately.

_ I mean...

_ Who I am, Kestrel rumbled angrily, his eyes shooting daggers. Do you honestly think I could forget who I am, Fisher?

That was when Sam knew he had really and deeply offended his ops, who never called him by his surname except when he was mad at him. He went for an apology.

_ Kestrel, please forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's just...

_ I'll be in my cabin if you need me, Kestrel cut him bitterly and turned his back on him, climbing the ramp of the plane.

Sam, guilt twisting his guts, was about to call him out when he heard a van parking next to the ramp. He turned round and saw Kossiak's team for the first time. They hopped down their van and approached him cautiously, Kossiak in the lead.

_ Where's Mikhail? Kossiak asked, a little puzzled.

_ In his cabin, Sam sighed. I've offended him, I'm afraid. I tried to apologize, but...

Kossiak smiled faintly.

_ Kestrel is legendary unforgiving, Sam Fisher. Consider yourself lucky to be still alive, that means he deeply respects and appreciates you.

_ I'll bear it in mind. Please come aboard, we'll introduce ourselves before my team.

_ What about the sniper? Nikonova asked. He's wounded.

_ I'll tell my crew to put him in one of our cells and our doc will tend to him.

The Voron team looked impressed, and after giving orders through his subdermal implants Ollie and Jun, two faithful crew members, went to fetch the prisoner with a stretcher. Then he led the Russians to the control room where Grim and Charlie were waiting for them, uneasiness on their faces. Sam offered chairs for everyone and said:

_ I'll go fetch Kestrel. I hope he didn't tear his cabin apart.

_ No sound from the crew area, Grim said, appalled. What happened?

_ I offended him, Sam confessed, slightly ashamed. And I'm not sure he accepted my apologies.

_ I'll come with you, Kossiak offered. He won't turn you down if I'm there, at least I hope so.

Sam led him to the crew area and knocked on Kestrel's door.

_ Kestrel? Can I talk to you?

No answer. Sam's guts clenched in fear. He knew his ops' mind was not completely healed and dreaded another suicide attempt. He knocked again, then opened the door and entered the cabin, followed by Kossiak. And he saw Kestrel, lying on his bed, headphones on, breathing deeply, obviously doing sophrology.

Sam sighed in relief, then Kossiak asked him, pointing to Alpha's photo:

_ Is it his girlfriend?

_ Yes, Sam said sadly. She died eighteen months ago.

_ I'm glad to see he had found love at last, Kossiak said grimly, but he must have been devastated when he lost her.

_ He's still mending, Sam said, looking at his ops in concern, and it'll take time. But it doesn't help to know her ashes have been used as fake evidence in your blown-up submarine.

_ I can imagine, Kossiak said thoughtfully.

He walked next to Kestrel's bed and shouted in Russian:

_ Kestrel! Up!

The ops jumped, opening his eyes in alarm, and arched his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of his old friend.

_ Igor? What are you...?

_ Not a word, Kestrel. Get up and don't sulk, we have work to do.

Kestrel got up, taking out his headphones, then noticed Sam and scowled. But he advanced towards him nevertheless and raised his balled fist. Sam forced his eyes to stay open, knowing he had deserved the coming blow, and saw Kestrel's fist brushing past his left cheek, hitting the wall behind him.

Sam didn't flinch and locked eyes with his ops. Kestrel looked calmer, and after a few seconds staring at each other the ops backed a step and without a word offered his hand to Sam. The Splinter Cell shook it, and Kestrel nodded. He had forgiven him. Then the ops exited the room, and a bewildered Kossiak muttered:

_ Yes, you're really special for him, Sam Fisher. He killed men for less than that.

_ As you said, Sam murmured, relieved and proud, I consider myself lucky.

Then they followed Kestrel to the control room, where the two teams had gathered and were eyeing each other with curiosity. Briggs had returned, and Sam let Kestrel introduce the Fourth Echelon team while Kossiak did the same with the Voron one.

Sam saw looks of surprise when Kestrel introduced him, and noticed a particularly amused look on the face of the sturdy woman opposite him. Kossiak introduced her as Valentina Stepankova, and Sam smiled. He had indeed seen her in Moscow twenty years ago, her smile was unforgettable. And he had loved messing with her nerves during that spying mission.

Next to her was Cristina Nikonova, the young geek of the team, Mikhail Poliakov, a burly thirty-something ops with a caustic smile, and Arseniy Kandinski, thin and tall and looking like a mourner.

After the introductions Sam spoke. He had to take the lead, as they could be followed by some agents of Voron or Fedorova's.

_ Right, let's talk business. Everybody understands English?

The Voron team nodded, and he continued.

_ First of all, do you know who's this sniper?

_ No, Stepankova said with a strong Russian accent. He's not from Voron. And he swore in Spanish when we caught him.

_ In Spanish? Grim repeated, shooting a glance at Sam. One of Esteban's men, maybe?

_ Possible, Sam said. I'll have Ollie take a picture of him and his fingerprints, so we'll...

Sam saw Ollie walk into the room, having heard him talk, and holding out his smartphone with a smile. Charlie took it and Sam thanked the crewman who told him:

_ Dr Collins will come in a few minutes.

Ollie left the control room and Charlie connected the smartphone to the SMI, who displayed the profile of the sniper on the great screen in less than a minute. Grim read aloud:

_ Matteo Torres, Mexican, 35, known member of the drug cartel Mexican Freedom. One of Esteban's men, now we know for sure.

_ Esteban? Kossiak asked. Who's Esteban?

Sam told the Voron team about their fight against Meggido, Alpha's death then stolen body, the trip to San Cristobal and the ambush, Kestrel nearly dying and the attack in the military hospital in El Paso, and what they had learned since then about Meggido's plans. He didn't tell them about the chalet in Idaho, that had to be kept secret.

By the time he had finished, the puzzled looks on the Voron team's faces had changed into revolted ones. He caught the sad glance Kossiak was shooting at Kestrel, but the ops looked far away, lost in his own painful thoughts. Finally Stepankova broke the thick silence.

_ So, Sarto's the real target, with that bitch Fedorova. Without them, no war.

_ It's not so simple, Sam shook his head. Your boss Avilov wants your skins.

_ That I have trouble to believe, Stepankova said grimly. I've worked with that бастард _(bastard)_ for fifteen years, he never shot me murderous glances.

_ Kestrel recorded his interrogation of Dubov, Sam announced calmly. If you want to have a proof.

_ Please, Stepankova agreed.

Sam nodded at Charlie who played the recording then turned his back on the screen, like Grim, Nikonova and Kestrel. Without a word Sam, Briggs and the rest of the Voron team watched Kestrel's specific questions and moves and Dubov's pathetic screams and fearful answers. When it was done, silence was very thick again.

Finally Stepankova spoke.

_ I owe you an apology. You were right and I wrong. I can't believe this bastard wants us convicted for treason and executed by our own men just because we don't agree with him.

_ So, what are we going to do? Kossiak asked Sam.

Sam was about to answer when he noticed Kestrel, looking pale and clammy, staggering a little on his feet. His limbs were shaking hard, and Sam knew at once that his ops was suffering from withdrawal. He wanted to tell him to go to the infirmary but was afraid of offending him further.

Fortunately, Dr Collins entered the room and saw immediately Kestrel's state. He shot a meaningful look at Sam who felt relieved, then greeted the Voron team and addressed the assembly.

_ Our guest has been wounded in the leg by a bullet, but no surgery is needed. The bullet went straight through his thigh and nothing vital has been touched. I sutured him back, he should be all right in a couple of weeks.

_ Thanks, doc, Sam said.

_ My pleasure. And agent Kestrel?

Kestrel looked at the doc, and Sam saw his eyes wandering a little bit, his breathing quick and jerky.

_ I want you in the infirmary now, Dr Collins said firmly. We have to run some balance tests, I hope you remember?

Kestrel nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes darting on the ground and in every corner of the room. Sam realized he was in pre-delirium tremens, a usual step after 48 or 72 hours of brutal alcohol withdrawal, and he was probably hallucinating, seeing bugs or other things. So Sam said:

_ Briggs, please escort Kestrel and the doc.

Briggs, who had noticed the strange behaviour of his friend, nodded at once and went next to Kestrel.

_ Come on, mate, he said. Let's have you in your right self as soon as possible.

Kestrel mumbled a few words but let Briggs and the doc stir him out of the room. When the door closed behind them, Kossiak asked Sam, genuine concern on his face:

_ What's happening to him? That was not a balance problem.

_ No, Sam admitted, although he really has that problem which is the cause of his broken arm. But he's also suffering from alcohol withdrawal.

_ He is an alcoholic?

_ He _was_ , Sam corrected Kossiak softly. He had been addicted for some time when he was still in Russia, but when he met Alpha, his girlfriend, he stopped drinking. The thing is, a week ago in San Cristobal, Vikachev tortured him by forcing him to drink an entire bottle of vodka with drugs to make him talk. And right after that, he was shot in the back and watched his girlfriend's coffin explode in small ashes. That made him dive back in alcohol. But he stopped drinking abruptly again two days ago, so now it's very hard for him.

Sam saw that the Voron team was clearly affected, but before Kossiak could say anything a small alarm beeped on the SMI. Charlie and Grim bent over it, then Charlie said excitedly:

_ It's Fedorova! She's calling Sarto!

* * *

Hope you enjoy the story! Chapter 42 coming soon!


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Sam walked next to the SMI and said quickly:

_ Charlie, record the call and make us hear it. Grim, track Sarto's phone. We must know where this motherfucker is hiding.

They both bent on their computers, and three seconds later the Fourth Echelon and Voron teams could hear the conversation loud and clear.

_ Yes?

_ It's me, Fedorova said, talking in English. I have news.

_ Tell me, Sarto said simply.

_ Kossiak and his team left for Bangkok, with Avilov's consent, but I don't know why. I fear these bastards are suspecting something.

_ Impossible, Sarto said. _They_ certainly don't know anything.

_ But what if they meet Kestrel and Fourth Echelon? It could be a disaster. And we lost their fucking plane, we don't know where they are.

_ Don't forget you and Vikachev took care of this Kestrel. Right now he must still be a vegetable in a hospital's bed somewhere, if even he made it. And don't worry about Fourth Echelon. Sooner or later Sam will track them and tell her dear husband, and we'll know it right away.

_ I put one of Esteban's guards on Kossiak's tracks, but I haven't heard of him. Looks like he disappeared.

_ That's what happens when you use mercenaries instead of brainwashed, faithful soldiers, Sarto grumbled. Let it be a lesson for you, my dove. And don't worry about Kossiak, he's a brainless puppet.

_ But you know we need Esteban, at least until he kills Avilov.

_ Yes, I know. It's unfortunate but necessary to keep our noses clean. And what about the submarine?

_ The departure at sea has been delayed due to the search for bombs. According to Gurkovski it won't leave Vilyuchinsk until the 9th.

_ Maybe it's better that way. Terekhov dead, the country will be in such turmoil that it'll be easy to convince the armed forces staff to wage war on the USA after the attack.

_ You're right, sweetheart, Fedorova said lavishly. I miss you.

_ Me too, but concentrate on our job. We're almost there, don't ruin anything.

_ I won't.

_ Still no news of this Dubov?

_ No. I fear Fourth Echelon killed him and Malkine. He wasn't in Russia like he had said to Avilov on the phone.

_ Who will replace him to kill Terekhov?

_ Voronkov. He's our next best sniper.

_ Make sure he doesn't miss his target. Bye.

_ Love you.

The line went dead, and Sam caught Grim's determined stare. Then he locked eyes with Kossiak, and the Russian said, grimacing:

_ You were right from the beginning, Sam Fisher. What can we do to stop this madness?

_ We need to infiltrate the base of Vilyuchinsk and booby-trap the Chkval, Sam said seriously. And we need to protect the president Terekhov.

_ For Terekhov it should be all right, Stepankova said. After all, we are the ones in charge, we can put trusted men around the president, make him wear a bullet-proof vest.

_ But Voronkov is a sniper, Kossiak countered her. He'll kill Terekhov from far away as to leave no traces.

_ We need snipers as well, Stepankova said simply, to neutralize him discreetly. And a satellite real-time view.

_ That can be arranged easily, Grim said with a small smile.

_ It seems so, Kossiak said, admiring the Paladin's control room. You have access to top-range material, and we can't use Voron's one without giving us away. Would you be our eyes for this mission?

_ Yes, of course, Grim nodded.

_ About the snipers...

_ You know who should do it, Stepankova cut him. Kestrel. He's the best. Always have been.

_ I know, Kossiak said. But if he's caught...

Stepankova stayed silent, and Sam shared her hesitation. He knew Kestrel was an outstanding sniper and had kept Alpha's Cheytac rifle, but Russia was a risky ops theater for him. He risked his life going there.

_ I suggest we ask him, Sam said at last. He must decide what to do. Do you have another sniper ready?

_ Unfortunately no, Kossiak said. The five of us, plus Marinov, Jdan, Kniazev and Ivkin must remain around the president at all times. I don't trust any other Voron ops, and I'll station them farther away from the meeting's place and out of firing range.

_ My other ops, Briggs, is a sniper too, and is very good, Sam offered. If we can have the two of them covering the meeting's place...

_ It would be perfect, Kossiak said. And they'd remain unseen, which would be fine for all of us.

Sam nodded, and Stepankova said grimly:

_ The matter of the president is settled. But infiltrating Vilyuchinsk...

Sam saw the Voron team make sour faces. That mission would be very tough.

_ We can help you get in, Kossiak told Sam, but that's all we can do. Voron isn't trusted around naval secrets, and the Khabarovsk is a brand-new Iassen-class attack submarine.

_ Maybe you can give us the maps of the base and know where the Khabarovsk is moored? Grim asked hopefully. That would greatly help us, and we'll manage for the rest.

Kossiak questioned Nikonova with a stare, and she smiled.

_ I think I can do that, she told Grim who smiled back. At least I'll do when we restore our database. It's been completely erased by some genius hacking program, and...

She stopped before Grim's guilty expression, and Sam felt his cheeks hot. Kossiak shot him an exasperated look.

_ It was your doing, Sam Fisher?

_ Well, technically yes, Sam admitted. But in reality we didn't know the program would erase your database. Fortunately we have a copy in our computers.

_ You... you have a copy? Nikonova asked, not believing her ears.

_ Yes, Charlie said. We'll give it back to you, don't worry.

_ No, not yet, Kossiak said, speaking before his tech. Better leave it with you for now, it impairs Avilov and Fedorova. If we can access it here it would be enough.

_ I agree, Stepankova said. But one thing puzzles me. You did say you didn't know the program would erase our datatbase. How could you ignore it?

Sam exchanged an embarrassed look with Grim, but decided to tell the truth. He sensed he could trust the Voron team, and secrecy about that fact hardly mattered anymore.

_ The program was created by Alpha, Kestrel's girlfriend. Since she's dead, she couldn't tell us all the effects it would have. And we used it in a case of emergency, like she had told Kestrel.

_ This Alpha was a genius then...Hang on!

Nikonova's eyes widened and she asked, her voice trembling.

_ Don't tell me... Alpha... AlphaOmega?

Sam simply nodded, sadness filling his guts. Nikonova looked stunned, but only her seemed to have known about the brilliant hacker. The Voron team had a puzzled expression on their faces, but Kossiak looked sad too.

At that moment, a powerful and furious cry resonated in the plane, followed by loud clonking sounds and shouts. Sam, dreading what he would discover, recognized Kestrel's voice as the one emitting loud yells, and started to run towards the infirmary, Kossiak on his heels.

Halfway in the corridor he spotted Dr Collins at the door frame of the infirmary, looking inside in dismay while Briggs was running fast towards the cargo hold.

_ Doc! he shouted while running. What's happening?

_ He's wrecking the room, the doc answered wearily.

_ But why? Sam skidded to a halt, and he and Kossiak saw what was happening.

Kestrel, completely out of his mind, had grabbed a bed standard and was swinging it wildly, smashing the medical equipment while yelling loudly in Russian.

_ Назад! Назад! _(Get back! Get back!)_

Kossiak asked him loudly:

_ Мишка! Что ты видишь? (Michka! What do you see?)

_ Мышей! Мышей везде! _(Mice! Mice everywhere!)_

 ___ He's seeing mice, Kossiak translated with worry. He's mortally afraid of mice.

_ He's hallucinating, the doc said evidently. I couldn't do anything. He snapped when I tried to inject him with a sedative. Agent Briggs went to fetch a gas grenade.

The three of them watched helplessly as Kestrel was chasing imaginary mice around the infirmary, taking care to stay out of his standard's range. And a minute later Briggs ran back to them. He took careful aim then hastily threw the grenade at Kestrel's feet.

Sam, remembering the same scene a year and a half ago, was again surprised by his ops' toughness. He slowly stopped swinging his standard then dropped it but staggered on his feet for a good twenty seconds. Then his knees gave way and he knelt on the floor, hands supporting him. Another thirty seconds passed before he fell sideways to the floor, and even then he was still fighting for consciousness.

Sam went next to him and knelt, asking softly:

_ Kestrel? You all right?

_ Sam, Kestrel murmured, his eyes fluttering. I need... vodka.

_ No, Kestrel, Sam said, anxiety squeezing his chest. No more vodka for you. You swore. Hold on, Kestrel, you won't dive back. It'll pass, just hold on.

Kestrel's eyes rolled back in his head, and he blacked out at last. Sam saw Kossiak coming next to him, and together they carried the ops to his cabin, followed by Dr Collins. The Splinter Cell surveyed the doc carefully examining Kestrel and felt better when he announced he was okay and sleeping soundly. Then he left, sighing deeply, and Kossiak asked him:

_ Does he often snap like that?

_ Fortunately no. It's the fourth time I've seen him like that so far, and each time he had very good reasons.

_ He has changed much, Kossiak said gloomily.

_ How much? Sam asked with curiosity. What was he like before?

Kossiak stopped in the corridor and inhaled deeply, facing Sam.

_ He was sad and angered at all times, but hid it behind a thick shell of calm and professionalism. He never let his guard down, even before Ivan and me, except twice in his whole life. That's why I'm so surprised to see him casually talking and looking good.

_ He's at the bottom of the pit right now, Sam said darkly, compared to how he was when Alpha was alive.

_ I wish I had known her, Kossiak said. I've missed an essential part of his life, I didn't help him when he needed me, and for that I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life.

Sam stayed silent, and the two of them made their way back to the control room. Briggs had told everybody what had happened, and Sam caught Grim's silent question.

_ He's sleeping. It's okay.

She nodded, relieved, then bent over the SMI with Nikonova and Charlie again. Poliakov, Kandinski and Stepankova were talking guns with Briggs in a corner. Sam turned towards Kossiak and asked:

_ Are you going to Russia with us?

_ It would be safer for us, I guess, in case our hideout and means of transport are still being watched. But we can't go straight to Saint Petersburg. Let's go to Moscow. And where is Sarto?

_ In Novgorod, Grim answered him.

_ Right, Sam said, we'll take off in half an hour.

Kossiak nodded, and they joined the team at the SMI, already working on the mission in Vilyuchinsk.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Kestrel awoke with the unpleasant sensation of having a solid hangover. He slowly emerged from a dreamless sleep, and soon realized he was in his cabin aboard the Paladin. The plane was in motion, and he could heard soft conversations in the dining area nearby. He sat up and watched his OPSAT, it was 1.36 pm. He had slept a good three hours after seeing mice in the infirmary.

He remembered well his hallucinations and wondered how they could have happened. He was usually down to earth and very calm, but this fit was so unlike him it puzzled him. Then his gaze fell upon the empty bottle of vodka he had left on his nightstand before the chalet and suddenly understood. The withdrawal was causing his state. All he needed was a strong distraction to keep his mind away from the urge to drink, and he thought he knew what he could do. But first, he said to himself, I need to eat.

He headed towards the dining cabin and entered the room. The table was crowded with the Fourth Echelon and Voron teams, and they all turned their eyes on him. Grim got to his feet and indicated him a seat between Poliakov and Sam.

_ Kestrel! Glad to see you awake! Please sit down over there.

He squeezed on the chair and saw a shy smile on Sam's face.

_ All right?

_ Yes, Sam, thanks. The mice have disappeared.

_ Good, Sam nodded, obviously relieved. You're hungry?

_ Starving.

_ As usual, Briggs commented with a smirk, passing him a huge dish with roasted potatoes and pork chops.

_ Shut up, Briggs, Kestrel said, winking at him and helping himself. I need fuel to beat you in our next training.

_ In your dreams, mate.

_ I notice you hardly have any Russian accent anymore, Michka, Kossiak said. You even tend to have an American one.

_ Good for me, Kestrel said serenely between huge mouthfuls. I'll soon blend in my new country.

Nobody took the risk to ask him any further questions about his choices, and it was fine by him. He caught Kossiak's stare and was startled to see the wistful smile on his lips. Maybe his old friend was beginning to realize he had changed irreversibly, and there would be no coming back.

Finally Poliakov, who had already finished his plate, cleared his throat and told Sam across Kestrel:

_ Mr Fisher, I'd like to ask you something, if I may.

_ Sure. Ask away.

_ What happened in Moscow twenty years ago with Valentina Ivanovna?

Kestrel raised his head just in time to see Stepankova, his former supervisory director, shoot daggers at Poliakov, who reddened but insisted:

_ Some wild rumours are flying among all the ops, I just want to know if they're true, that's all!

Sam started to laugh, and soon Stepankova let out a grudging smile. They seemed to share an amusing joke.

_ Please tell them, Sam Fisher, Stepankova sighed. I'm not on the field anymore, I won't die of embarrassment.

_ As you wish, Valentina.

Sam drank a mouthful of water, cleared his throat then started, everybody listening attentively.

_ Twenty years ago, I had a mission in Moscow. I had to spy an important conversation between a GRU officer and a double agent working for us but who had supposedly changed sides. Since all the characters are dead now, it's not so secret anymore. I tailed the officer for several days but was aware of an agent tailing me. It was Valentina. Who were you working for, then?

_ The SVR already, she admitted. We didn't trust this GRU officer and suspected him, but without clear evidence, of passing intel to foreign countries. And it seems we were right.

_ You were, Sam smiled. He was a CIA mole. But the double agent was working for Iran too, and I needed evidence to have him arrested in the US. So when they met in a hotel bedroom, I gave the agent tailing me the slip using the men's toilets, then recorded the conversation hanging from the room's balcony before hurriedly leaving Russia.

_ You completely lost me, Stepankova grumbled. I've never been so humiliated in my whole life! You are the only agent who successfully gave me the slip, as you say, and at that time I didn't know who you were. You were supposed to be a journalist, and I learned who you were about ten years later. You were gifted, Sam Fisher.

Sam smiled, and all around Kestrel the faces were impressed and amused. He smiled while helping himself to a second plate and wolfed down his food. But he still haven't eaten his fill, so he piled up the potatoes and pork chops in his plate for the third time. Now all eyes were watching him with incredulity, but he was unfazed and ate his plate in no time. And at last, after shoving down the last bit of pork, he felt better but still had an empty corner in his stomach.

_ Kestrel, Briggs said, astonished. You really were starving. I've never seen you eat so much and so fast.

_ I was hungry, he said calmly. But I still can eat dessert, if there's one.

Grim, shooting him a doubtful look, got up and fetched a giant chocolate cake. She put a large piece in front of Kestrel who ate it in ten seconds. He was eyeing the rest of the cake with envy, part of him wondering why he was so hungry. But he'd rather be hungry then suffering from withdrawal, so he accepted the other piece Grim was offering him and devoured it under the bewildered looks of the teams. Then Sam shoved the dish, with a quarter of the cake still in there, under his nose and said, joking:

_ The cake is yours, if you want. We all had our share.

But Kestrel took him at his word and wolfed down the rest of the cake while Briggs was serving coffee. Sam's eyebrows were so high it was almost comical, Kestrel thought.

_ Now I feel better, he said, poker-faced as he laid down his spoon.

_ You don't feel sick? Kossiak asked him, astonished.

_ Not at all. I feel fine.

He turned towards Sam and asked him seriously:

_ So. What's the plan?

Sam told him about the conversation between Sarto and Fedorova, and Kestrel listened carefully. Then Sam paused, and Kossiak carried on, explaining about the plan to protect the Russian president. But he stopped abruptly too, biting his lip, and Kestrel saw that he and his boss were not telling him something. He turned back to Sam.

_ Do you have a job for me?

Sam locked eyes with him, appraising him, then said at last:

_ A volunteer mission, Kestrel. If you refuse it, nothing will be said against you.

_ Tell me, Kestrel said calmly, already knowing in his guts what it was about.

Sam and Kossiak exchanged a dark look, then Sam said:

_ We would like you to be a sniper with Briggs in Saint Petersburg and neutralize Voronkov and all the threats.

Kestrel reclined on the back of his chair, thinking hard. He was ready to go back to Russia and do his job there, but his problem was more physical. A sniper would have to be on top of a building, and himself too to kill him. But he had a problem with heights. He settled his mind.

_ I'll do it, Sam, on one condition.

_ Which condition?

All eyes were fixed upon him, but he didn't feel embarrassed. His pride had since long gone, and what mattered now for him was being fully operational and in good shape to be the top range ops he had always been.

_ I need to see Dr Collins, he said serenely. I have to solve my balance problem right now, before we set foot in Russia.

Sam looked relieved and impressed, and he said at once:

_ Go now. The doc told me about some exercises for that matter, and all the ops here will help him with them. Grim, Charlie, Cristina and Valentina are preparing the two missions, so when we arrive they'll be almost ready.

Kestrel nodded then got up and headed towards the infirmary. He knocked firmly on the door, and a few seconds later Dr Collins opened it.

_ Agent Kestrel! I didn't expect you awake before five o'clock!

_ I had lunch, doc, Kestrel said, smiling a little. Slept three hours, it was enough.

_ That I can see. You've come for your balance trouble, I assume?

_ Yes.

_ Come in.

The doc made him sit in a reclining chair and ran some auditory and visual tests which made Kestrel's head spin. Then he explained to the ops:

_ I'm going to sent water in your ears at specific strengh and frequency. The tests you just passed gave me all the data I need. You'll just have to relax and let the water flow. It'll last around half an hour, then you'll have some physical exercises in the training room to see if your trouble has disappeared. Okay?

_ Okay, doc.

_ I'll leave you now and come back when it's finished. If you feel your head spin, just close your eyes and breathe deeply, it's perfectly normal. But if you feel sick, call out. Nurse Anderson is there.

_ Right.

_ Let's start, then.

Kestrel heard the doc press a button, then he felt water rushing in his ears, receding and filling them again. Soon his head was spinning so fast he closed his eyes and fought the nausea rising in his throat. But with his eyes shut the spinning slowly stopped, so he kept them closed, trying to relax and thinking about worse medical treatments he had had in his past.

Before he knew it the water receded completely and the doc said next to him:

_ Agent Kestrel? Are you all right?

_ Yes, he answered, opening his eyes.

He felt light-headed and drowsy, but at least the spinning wasn't there anymore.

_ Please get up, but take your time, Dr Collins said.

Kestrel obeyed, rising gently on his feet. He didn't feel anything different but hoped the water had done the trick.

_ Follow me, then, Dr Collins said.

They walked to the training room, and Kestrel saw what Sam had talked him about earlier. Desks, tables and chairs were piled up and scattered around the vast room, making a weird but efficient obstacle course. Sam, Briggs, Kossiak, Poliakov and Kandinski were waiting for them, and Sam said:

_ Right. Maybe you'll regret your meal, Kestrel, but don't worry. We're there to catch you if you feel dizzy up one of these piles.

_ And I think I can remove this, Dr Collins added, unfastening the scratches of his sling. Move your arm, agent Kestrel, slowly.

Kestrel made his arm extend and rotate with relief, and didn't feel any pain. He gripped a chair with his hand and lifted it, still no pain, only a little stiffness. Sam, Briggs and the doc were grinning.

_ Very well, your arm is mended. You can begin. You'll have to climb up all these obstacles and get down head first. I know it's against all safety rules, but for the test it's essential. You can either climb down or jump, just don't break any of your bones.

_ Copy.

Kestrel started, happy to stretch out his legs, and bounded on the first desk. He jumped on the chair on top of it and was soon two meters in the air. He looked down to the floor and paused. No dizziness. Kossiak and Briggs were on either side of him, but without fear he jumped, cushioning his fall by softening his ankles and knees and rolling forward.

He got up and ran to the next obstacle, this time the dining table with a desk and a chair atop. Sam, Kandinski and Poliakov were watching for a fall, but in a swift movement Kestrel was at the top three meters in the air, and still no dizziness. And he jumped. Kossiak stifled a yelp when he landed on the floor, but Kestrel simply rolled forward and moved on.

He ran the obstacle course five times, feeling elated. He was back in his old good health, only the withdrawal remained. But that would be soon solved, he swore to himself. And as he jumped down the last obstacle he shouted in victory, raising his fist into the air, under the applause of the doc and his fellow ops.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

After the doc had insisted to examine him thoroughly again, Kestrel exited the infirmary and met Kossiak in the corridor, obviously waiting for him.

_ Igor?

_ Michka. I was wondering if we could talk. In private.

Kestrel looked carefully at his old friend, noticing the seriousness of his voice and face. He said simply:

_ Come to my cabin.

He led Kossiak to his room and closed the door behind them. Then he offered him the chair and sat on his bed while texting a message for Sam on his OPSAT. Finally he stared at his friend, waiting for him to talk first. Kossiak looked enbarrassed and bashful, quite unlike his old self, Kestrel thought. So after a minute he asked softly in Russian:

_ So, you wanted to talk, Igor?

The Russian nodded, still looking tongue-tied. At long last he inhaled deeply and said:

_ I want to apologize, Michka.

Kestrel, who had not expected this, felt surprise and astonishment. Never before had Kossiak apologized to anyone.

_ For what?

_ For letting you down, Kossiak said, remorse on his face. I believed you had betrayed Voron and us. I didn't worry about the man Timochenko was torturing in Koltsovo, and it was you. I still didn't believe you when you phoned me two years ago, asking for a meeting. I was so blind, then. And I think I was resenting you to have gone to do this joint mission and let Ivan be killed by that fucking Avilov. You'd have used some help, and I wasn't there for you. I'm so mad at myself. Please forgive me, Michka.

Kestrel was appalled to see his tough old friend silently crying. But he didn't resent him. The days he had spent in Russia, lonely and suffering, were behind him. In the meantime he had met Alpha, done some good with Fourth Echelon and drawn a line under Russia. And even if he was scarred physically and mentally for life, he would go on with his American friends, doing his job and his duty until the end. At last he said softly:

_ I forgave you long ago, Igor. Otherwise you wouldn't be there. I wouldn't have given a damn about Terekhov and you being executed if I still resented you.

Kossiak wiped his tears and said:

_ You truly have changed, Michka. Four years ago, if I had done the third of what I did, I'd be dead or on a hospital bed.

_ I've suffered so much, Igor, Kestrel confessed, sadness filling his heart, that I know what it's like to be in constant pain. And my love has died suffering immensely, so now I'm reluctant to inflict pain upon others.

_ Even Dubov, Kossiak added darkly. You've been quite soft with him, I noticed.

_ Yes. What did he do to you? And Malkine?

Kossiak stayed silent for a few seconds, hatred on his face, then said:

_ Last year, I teamed up with Jdan for a mission in India, and Dubov and Malkine were our backup team. After a fight with Pakistanese Talibans Jdan was wounded and couldn't walk, being unconscious, so I called them to cover us and help me carry him to our truck. They started to do so, but after a few minutes Malkine said that we couldn't make it and we'd better leave Jdan behind.

Kossiak's face was sour, his eyes obviously seeing the scene.

_ I refused, of course, and put him on my shoulders. Dubov stopped me and said to drop Jdan and leave, saying that reinforcements were coming on the Taliban side. I refused again. So Malkine took out his knife and went to stab Jdan in the back, but I backed up, and the blade gave me that scar on the lip. I managed to take out my pistol and point it at them, ordering them to go back to the truck with me if they wanted to go back to Russia on their feet. They finally obeyed me and we barely made it to the truck. After that I tried to have them kicked out of Voron, but Avilov protected them. I'm so glad these bastards are dead.

Kestrel nodded, understanding well enough. He knew the death of an enemy was a short satisfaction, but at least they wouldn't do any more damage.

_ So that's why Jdan and Marinov are on your side, Kestrel said. You saved Jdan's life, and he and his teammate are grateful to you.

_ Partly, yes, but they're mostly against Avilov's ruthless ambition. He has a lot of enemies among the Voron ops. You know about Kniazev and Ivkin, I assume?

Kestrel nodded, remembering that Avilov had sent the team to a suicide mission in Kamchatka without Vialitsyn's consent, and Kniazev and Ivkin were harbouring a grudge since then, having being seriously wounded and only saved by Kestrel's and Ivan Kossiak's bravery and stubbornness.

_ What about Poliakov and Kandinski?

_ The two of them are a couple, Kossiak said in a murmur, but of course you know among special forces it's still a taboo. I know they're excellent ops and make a great team, but if Avilov heard about their relationship...

Kestrel guessed the two of them would be dead. In Russia homosexuality was still largely considered a disease, and even more in armed forces. Avilov had a medieval point of view on such things.

_ I won't say a word about it.

_ Good, Kossiak approved. And about relationships...

Kestrel saw his old friend looking expectantly at him, and he sighed.

_ What do you want to know, Igor? She was the sunshine in my life, and now she's dead.

Kossiak pursed his lips but insisted:

_ Please tell me about her, Michka. She's important to you, even now, and I'd like to know more about her. Please.

Kestrel sighed again before the pleading eyes of his old friend, and relented.

_ Okay. Her name was Alpha, short for AlphaOmega, her alias. She was French and a genius hacker. I met her in Moscow while I was fighting Pachkov, two years ago. She saved my life by smashing an empty bottle of vodka on his skull. I was wounded in the thigh, so after I killed Pachkov she dragged me to her hotel and nursed me for three weeks. I fell in love with her then, but I didn't confess it to her right away.

He was recollecting his memories, not only for Kossiak but also for himself, and felt a little pain in his heart but also comforting love, warming him and giving him courage.

_ She was a brilliant hacker, so we made a deal. She would help me wreaking vengeance upon Voron, and in exchange I'd train her to be an ops like me. She was very strong and fast, just like me, and she was an even better sniper than me. So we fought together against Voron, then the Engineers and Meggido, and that's when we decided to help Fourth Echelon who was fighting them too. Sam offered us a job and I accepted it, and when I was offered the American citizenship I gladly accepted too.

Kestrel saw Kossiak smile painfully, and knew his friend could understand his choices.

_ Alpha and I started dating then, and we had some great moments together. But she was dying of cancer, so she sacrificed herself by jumping with the Meggido chief from the upper floor of the NSA's headquarters eighteen months ago. And since then I've been trying to live without her, feeling a gaping hole in my heart that'll never heal completely.

Kestrel was trembling, and he had a sudden urge to drink vodka. But he breathed deeply, resisting the urge, and concentrated on his friend's face. Kossiak looked devastated but put on a brave smile.

_ I'm sorry about her death. I see how much she was important to you.

_ I used to go and visit her grave in Baltimore, Kestrel said, his voice breaking a little. Now she's gone, a pile of ashes in a sunken Russian submarine.

He hung his head and saw that his limbs were shaking more than ever. So he got up and asked Kossiak who was eyeing him with a sad and sympathetic stare:

_ Would you help me, Igor?

_ Sure, his friend answered at once, getting to his feet. What can I do for you?

_ I need to move, Kestrel said. Combat training will do. I don't want to drink vodka ever again, but I'm suffering from withdrawal. Would you call all the ops and be my sparring partners?

_ I'll be right back, Kossiak nodded. We'll meet you in the big training room.

Kestrel headed for the room and saw that the furniture used to make an obstacle course had already been removed. He saw his usual punching bags hanging in the left corner and a pile of mats next to the door. He walked to the first-aid kit and took some bandages. Then he carefully wrapped his knuckles, not wanting to be lectured by Sam anymore, and started to punch the bags.

He was starting to sweat when he saw the door open, and Sam entered first, followed by Briggs, Kossiak, Poliakov, Kandinski and Stepankova. All of them faced him, neutral expression on, and Sam said, noticing his bandaged hands:

_ Good, Kestrel. You're starting to take care of your fists. Kossiak told us you need to let off the steam and do combat training. How would you like to play this?

Kestrel stopped his punching and noticed his limbs were shaking worse than ever. So he set his mind. Real combat training, he thought.

_ I want you all to pin me down on the mat. No rules, no softness. I won't hit you hard, but you can. I need to lash out. Attack single or together, whatever you want. I think it'll take time to calm my nerves, so don't show mercy.

Sam looked at his partners who all nodded grimly, then said:

_ Very well, Kestrel. We'll pin you on the floor in no time.

Kestrel smirked and attacked. The Voron ops advanced to meet him and they fought for a good five minutes. They were all working like a team, including Stepankova, attacking him with two or three ops at a time, but he countered their strikes easily.

Then Briggs and Sam came forward, allowing the Russians to take a breath, and Kestrel countered them too, but with more difficulty. Sam was an expert at Krav Maga, and in spite of his approaching sixties, was still in peak condition. Briggs was a quick fighter, more keen for subtlety and speed, and was hard to catch.

Five other minutes passed and Kestrel still felt his limbs trembling, dying for more action. So he kicked Briggs on the hip, making him fall, and in the same rotating movement caught Sam's left arm in a lock, making him kneel hard on the mat. He let go of him and roared:

_ Is that all you have in store? Come and pin me down! Now!

He saw a harsh gleam in the eyes of all his opponents who circled him and attacked together. That was better, he thought, repelling them with force, spinning on his feet, grabbing arms and parrying strikes during a good fifteen minutes. All of them were sweating hard and breathing heavily, but he himself felt great. So he continued to attack them, and they continued to try and bring him down.

In a blur he gently sent his fist in Kossiak's and Briggs' chin, his elbow in Poliakov's back, his knee in Kandinski's ribs and his foot in the back of Stepankova's knee, and they fell like bowling pins. Only Sam was still standing, and Kestrel attacked him, but he noticed that his movements were starting to slow down and his breathing was louder. Wisely Sam was just defending himself, recovering his breathing, and after another five minutes succeeded in grabbing Kestrel's arm in a lock, kicking him behind the knee.

Kestrel knelt hard on the mat but escaped Sam's grip. Unfazed, the Splinter Cell raised his fist and swung it in Kestrel's temple, and finally the ops saw tiny stars explode before his gaze. He felt himself fall backwards and landed on the mat with a grunt of satisfaction, letting the adrenalin wash out the withdrawal sensations.

All around him he heard groans and soft swearing, and saw Sam kneel next to him.

_ All right, Kestrel?

_ Yes, thanks. That was fun.

_ For you, maybe, Sam grimaced.

_ Why?

Sam offered him his hand and helped him on his feet. And Kestrel saw that his sparring partners, except Sam, were still on the floor, breathing and sweating heavily. He asked them, concerned:

_ Did I hurt you?

_ If that was a light punch, Michka, Kossiak groaned, massaging his chin, then I'd hate taking a real one. You nearly unhinged my jaw, you bastard.

_ Same for me, Briggs grumbled, slowly getting to his feet.

_ I'm okay, Stepankova muttered, but you're as strong as a wild lion, Kestrel.

Poliakov and Kandinski were on their feet too but Kandinski was holding his ribcage, and Kestrel feared he had struck him too hard. Poliakov felt his friend's ribs, then said:

_ Nothing's broken, you'll just have a giant bruise, Arseniy.

_ Wonderful, Kandinski murmured, his face even darker than usual.

_ I'm sorry, Kestrel said with shame. I didn't mean...

_ Michka, Kossiak cut him, beating Sam's reply. You needed that, and we're tough. Let it be a reminder of what awaits us on the field. You're truly stronger than any other opponent I've faced, but perhaps someday I'll meet a man as strong as you. I need to train harder.

_ I couldn't have said it better, Sam said with a smile at Kossiak. And we're here to help you, Kestrel. Aboard a flying plane it's difficult to chop wood or run ten kilometers. So don't worry, we just hope you're feeling better.

_ I am, Kestrel said with gratitude. Thank you all.

The Voron and Fourth Echelon team nodded at him, smiling gently, and Kestrel felt truly better.

_ And now, he said, grinning, I'll hit the shower.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

When Kossiak had come to the control room and asked all the ops to go and fight Kestrel, Grim had felt a little uneasy to be left alone with Charlie and Cristina Nikonova. The two of them were so intent on geek techniques and common cyber friends that she felt like an intruder. But at least they were helping her finding the plans of the Vilyushinsk base and the Khabarovsk submarine.

They had finished planning the mission of the president Terekhov's meeting, which was quite straightforward for them since the Voron team knew what to do and Fourth Echelon would only help them with their two snipers. But infiltrating Vilyushinsk would be a lot more tougher. The naval base was harbouring the Russian Pacific fleet and was heavily guarded and bursting with top-range security systems. Fortunately, Stepankova had had an idea before leaving. She had suggested that Kestrel and Briggs enter the base as crewmen of the Pakistanese submarine Saad, harboured at Vilyushinsk for an exercise with the Russian fleet.

So Charlie and Nikonova were doing research on this submarine and preparing fake identities for the ops, while Grim was studying the maps of the base and trying to find the safest route for them. The Saad was moored five hundred meters away from the Khabarovsk but the crews never mixed, the Pakistanese strictly kept near their sub or on the base. But Grim spotted a weak link in the tight security chain: the water. It was the only possibility to approach the Khabarovsk by stealth, as the docks were roaming with armed guards who had orders to shoot first and ask questions last. So she concentrated on this plan, and when Sam and the ops came back, she had found a way to neutralize the Voron Chkval.

_ Grim? Sam asked her, jarring her out of her deep thoughts.

_ Yes? she turned to him, eyebrows furrowed.

_ What do you have for us?

_ A plan, she said. But we'll need some help.

She looked at Kossiak and Stepankova who came next to her, while the other ops went for a coffee in the dining cabin. She explained to the three of them what she had in mind for the mission.

_ We'll infiltrate Kestrel and Briggs as Pakistanese crew members from the submarine Saad. Then they'll swim to the Khabarovsk and enter it through the panel near the torpedoes chamber. The sub won't have its crew on board until the 9th at 3 pm, so we need to do the mission during the night from the 8th to the 9th. Only four guards will be on duty, so it shouldn't be difficult to avoid them.

They nodded in agreement. But she added:

_ The only problem is the extraction. I don't think they'll be able to exit the base the way they came in. Too risky.

_ We can arrange that, Kossiak said. The commander of the Pacific fleet, admiral Vetotchkin, will be there for the launch of the exercise with the Saad, and Kniazev and Ivkin will be his bodyguards. We can smuggle them out, but it won't be until 9 pm on the 9th. In the meantime, they'll have to hide on the base.

Grim saw Sam grimace. Twenty-four hours playing hide-and-seek in a Russian naval base wouldn't be safe for his ops, especially for Kestrel. But their options were limited, and they were lucky to have the Voron team on their side.

_ Okay, he said at last. Grim, please find them a place to hide. Valentina?

The agent looked up.

_ Do you know how we can deactivate the explosive charges on the Chkval?

_ Yes, she said. But it'll take time. At least fifteen minutes per torpedo.

_ And they're twenty of them, Sam said sourly. Even with two ops...

_ It'll take around five hours with one of them being on the look-out, Kossiak said grimly. But if they both do the work, they'll save time.

_ With greater risks to be taken by surprise, Grim countered. We cannot take such a risk, they need to stay invisible. Even a non-lethal neutralization would raise the alarm and make them captured. One of them needs to be on the watch and warn the other.

_ That means you'll have to leave right after Terekhov's meeting to be on time for that mission, Kossiak said. Will it be okay?

_ I think so, Sam nodded. Fortunately we have all we need aboard the plane, so Briggs and Kestrel will rest between the missions.

_ But your plane? Stepankova asked. Won't it raise any suspicions?

_ I don't think so, Grim smiled. Officially, it's an air-freighter transporting fish. So we're going to Moscow with fish to sell and to Vilyushinsk with fish to buy.

_ That's convenient, Kossiak approved. I'll contact Ivkin and Kniazev as soon as we're in the headquarters and inform them. How will we make contact? If I use my cellphone too often it'll be a giveaway.

_ I have better, Grim said. Do you use earpieces for your missions?

_ Yes.

_ Then give me your frequency. Charlie will tune it a little bit so each team will hear each other while staying hidden from the other Voron ops, and we'll even know where the enemy ops are stationed.

_ Cristina? Kossiak called out his tech.

_ Already on it, she answered, bent on a computer next to Charlie.

_ Right, Sam said. We'll land in Moscow in what? An hour?

_ Ninety minutes, Grim said.

_ Okay, so we'll drop you then go to Saint Petersburg.

_ But where will you go in Saint Petersburg? Stepankova asked him.

_ No idea, Sam shrugged. I think we'll stay aboard the plane till the mission's ready to start. When will it begin exactly?

_ The meeting starts at 6 pm, Kossiak said. But we'll be there since 1 pm. The president arrives at 5.30 to prepare himself and meet the local authorities. We'll be stationed around the Palace square, but I don't know where Voronkov will be. Not too close, I'd bet. He's supposed to be on holidays, ублюдок! _(bastard!)_

_ Where should my ops be to cover the square? Sam asked him.

_ There, he indicated on the map Grim made appear on the SMI. The Church on Spilled Blood and the Kazan cathedral. These two churches have domes over seventy meters above ground, which should be fine to have an overview of downtown Saint Petersburg. The thing is, they're not far from the Palace square, so Kestrel and Briggs will have to hide there in the morning and avoid being spotted. Fortunately we're the ones who have to check the churches for bombs and snipers, so we'll be able to hide their presence. I'll send Poliakov and Kandinski.

_ Good, Sam nodded. So we'll start operation Kestrel Storm at noon on the 7th.

_ Kestrel Storm? Stepankova repeated in surprise. Why such a name? What does it mean?

_ Кестрел шторм, Kossiak said. Aren't they the words Kestrel said to Dubov?

_ The very ones, Sam said calmly.

Grim, Stepankova and Kossiak nodded in approval. Grim understood why Sam had chosen that particular name, he wanted to honor his ops and help him draw a definitive line under his painful past.

_ Shall we go and explain the missions to our ops, then? Sam asked.

_ Yes, Kossiak nodded.

The four of them headed towards the dining cabin and soon heard laughter coming from it. When Grim entered behind Sam, she heard the end of a joke told by Poliakov and saw Kandinski, Briggs and Kestrel burst out laughing. The view warmed her heart, especially Kestrel holding his ribs. Sam cleared his throat and the laughs died. The ops were true professionals and instantly regained composure at the sight of their bosses.

_ Gentlemen, Sam announced while taking a seat, imitated by Kossiak, Stepankova and Grim. We must discuss your next missions.

And while the Paladin came closer to Moscow, Sam and Kossiak explained in detail the plans to the carefully listening ops. Grim noticed an unusual stiffness in Kestrel's posture, but she assumed it was from the missions which were to happen in his country of birth. But when Kossiak finished speaking, Kestrel asked a surprising question.

_ Will we go out of the plane in Saint Petersburg?

Sam, clearly taken by surprise, took a few seconds to answer, but Grim saw a curious gleam in the ops' eyes. He had something in the back of his mind, she thought.

_ Why? Sam asked him at last. Do you have something to do there?

_ Not really, Kestrel said calmly, masking his emotions behind his poker face. I just... I used to live there, and...

His voice trailed off, but Grim saw a fugitive emotion in his eyes he had trouble to hide. She understood immediately what he wanted to say but obviously didn't dare.

_ Maybe you'll want to go to your place and bring back some cherished possessions? she suggested softly.

He nodded, shooting her a grateful look, and finally confessed:

_ When Alpha and I hurriedly left Russia, we both forgot something important behind us. I never thought I could have the possibility to retrieve them, but if I could...

He turned towards Sam and Kossiak,and the Russian said:

_ Your apartment has been thorougly searched, Michka, as you can guess. But we found nothing relevant, so everything is still there, probably in a mess though.

_ Would it be safe for you to go there? Sam asked, skeptical. Isn't it under surveillance?

_ Not anymore, Stepankova assured him. Since we knew Kestrel had become American, we thought he'd never come back to Russia. The place is clear, but maybe it's been rented since then.

_ No, Kestrel shook his head. I paid my owner five years in advance, and he's an old soldier from the Sovietic Union, he'll have kept his word.

_ Five years? Briggs wondered aloud. Must have cost you a fortune, mate.

_ All my savings, Kestrel said calmly. Fortunately Alpha was a genius, and she diverted Meggido money for us. Several hundred thousand dollars we used in our fight.

_ But why keep your apartment in Saint Petersburg? Kossiak asked him, puzzled. You knew Voron would tear it apart.

_ Yes, but the thing I keep in there...

Grim noticed Kestrel's sad gaze and wondered what he wasn't telling them. He had always seemed detached from material possessions, except from his photos of Alpha, her book and rifle, but this time something really mattered for him. At last Sam said:

_ We'll go to your apartment, Kestrel. Briggs and I will accompany you in case you're in trouble, if that suits you.

_ Very well, the ops said while Briggs nodded. Thanks, Sam.

_ You know where are the Voron hideouts, Michka, Kossiak said grimly. Avoid them at all costs. If you're captured, I won't be able to help you, not until Avilov's dead.

_ I know, Igor. Don't worry.

Silence fell on the group. Grim saw tension and seriousness on the faces, but she was glad to see that two supposed enemy agencies could work together to avoid a full-scale war. And even if she knew that after the two missions Voron would be an adversary for Fourth Echelon again, at least she knew all Voron members were not motherfuckers.

The plane started to go down and the pilot announced in the loudspeaker their imminent arrival to Moscow. The teams went to the control room and sat in buckled seats, still in silence. Nothing more was left to be said until the start of the mission, Grim thought.

Twenty minutes later, the Paladin was safely landed and had its ramp down. On the tarmac, the team members shook hands, and Grim saw with emotion Kossiak and Kestrel embracing each other, as old friends. But their eyes were sad, they knew they were now on opposite sides, even if they remained friends nevertheless. Then the Voron team departed, and Grim and the Fourth Echelon team climbed back aboard the plane for an immediate take-off.

During the take-off, Grim was seated next to Kestrel, and she noticed that he had taken out his small photo of Alpha and was staring intently at it. He seemed so immersed in his thoughts that she didn't want to disturb him, but he suddenly looked up and crossed her gaze.

_ Sorry, she said softly. I didn't mean to...

_ No offense, he said, pocketing back the photo. I need her courage, that's all.

He averted his gaze, but she had seen his bright eyes. He still missed her greatly, she realized. And she felt her heart squeeze in dismay at the thought of Alpha's ashes lost in a blown-up submarine in a Russian harbour.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

When the Paladin landed at Saint Petersburg Pulkovo airport at 2.28 pm local time, Kestrel had regained some composure, but he still felt distressed. The missions were not a matter of concern for him, he knew he would do his job efficiently and professionally, as always. But what concerned him was going back to his old apartment and finding what he wanted to take from there. He wondered if the small objects would still be hidden there for him to take.

He, Sam and Briggs had dressed casually but were hiding a pistol under their jackets in case of a bad encounter. Grim had again rented a car for them, and this time Kestrel went behind the wheel. He had lived in Saint Petersburg for over a decade and knew every corner of the old city. Fortunately for them, his old apartment was in the Kirovskiy Rayon, just northwest of the airport, and far enough from the closest Voron hideout.

While driving into the crazy traffic, he saw with rising emotion the usual people roaming around the streets and the derelict buildings of his district from the Sovietic era, the bunches of youngsters huddled in corners, sipping vodka and smoking, the old babushkas with their headscarves, and the small shops. Even if he tried hard to empty his mind and concentrate on his task so important for him, the nostalgia and memories assailed him, nearly making him cry like a child.

He wanted to weep on his lost past, his old days as a Voron ops when life was as simple as a life-and-death mission or a party with vodka. And he had been with Alpha in this district, in that shop, and behind that pub, and in that restaurant in the corner. He shuddered, forcing back the tears and inhaling deeply. Next to him, he saw Sam shooting him a concerned glance but his boss stayed silent, no doubt seeing his dismay.

Finally, Kestrel turned in a small alleyway and parked the car at the foot of a tall building. He said as calmly as he could manage:

_ We've arrived.

He, Sam and Briggs got out of the car and Kestrel, regaining his usual calm, led them into the building's lobby. It was dark and gloomy but clean and smelling mint, as Kestrel remembered it. He went to the first apartment and knocked loudly on the door. A grumpy voice asked something in a rumble, and he said:

_ Джозеф Степанович, откройте, пожалуйста! _(Josef Stepanovitch, open up, please!)_

The door opened a few seconds later, and behind it he saw his landlord, grey hair and black wary eyes, looking at him in disbelief.

_ Mikhail Andreyevitch! he exclaimed in Russian. What a surprise! After two years, I was wondering if I would ever set eyes on you again.

_ As you can see, I'm visiting my place, Kestrel said, fighting back his emotion. But I'm afraid it'll be the last time, Josef Stepanovitch.

The old soldier stared intently at him, then shot an appraising look at Sam and Briggs, a few paces away.

_ I see, he finally said. Well, you'll find your apartment in a mess, I'm afraid. Some special forces came a year ago and wrecked the rooms, but they didn't take anything. I just put another lock on the door but didn't touch anything. And, about the money...

_ Keep it, Kestrel cut him softly. If you ever have some bad tenant, it'll help you. But as soon as I leave, everything inside is yours. Keep it or sell it, whatever you want.

_ That's most generous of you, Mikhail Andreyevitch, the old man said with a small smile but sad eyes. I'll give you the key.

He went inside his apartment and came back seconds later with a small key.

_ Here, he said, handing it for Kestrel to take. Would you and your friends come inside and have a glass of vodka?

_ That's very nice of you, Josef Stepanovitch, Kestrel declined politely, but sadly we're in a hurry. I'll put the key in your mailbox, if it's okay.

_ It is.

_ Thanks for everything.

_ Take care, Mikhail Andreyevitch, said the old landlord with emotion. I'll miss having you as a tenant.

Kestrel nodded and turned towards the staircase, silently followed by Sam and Briggs. He climbed the seven storeys in a blur, leaving Sam and Briggs panting slightly behind, and opened the plain brown door with its peeling paint.

As his landlord and Kossiak had warned him, his apartment was torn apart. He hadn't left anything of great value behind him, but seeing his old furniture and trinkets overturned and broken, his books spilled on the floor with ripped pages and his CDs in a heap on the carpet was heart-breaking. He stood at the door for a few minutes, shutting out the painful memories and trying to concentrate. Briggs and Sam caught up with him and he saw their worried gazes at him.

_ Welcome to my place, he said sarcastically, entering the living room.

He shot a look in the small kitchen, where all the china and cutlery was lying in pieces on the floor, cupboards opened and empty, and went down the corridor to the small bedroom and bathroom. The bed was overturned too, pillows ripped open and sheets torn. The few clothes he had left in the wardrobe were dangling from it, and he saw through the open door that the bathroom was in the same state than the rest of his apartment.

But he concentrated on the bed and went next to it. He crouched and unscrewed the footboard, hoping against hope that Voron hadn't found what was inside. And when it was detached from the bed frame, he saw with emotion and delight the two small objects lying in the hollowed-out bed leg. He fished them out and threw the footboard away, standing up and studying his treasures. Sam and Briggs went next to him to have a closer look, and Sam asked him gently:

_ What's that?

Kestrel didn't answer at once. He examined closely the thin golden chain with the small pendant on it, representing the Virgin Mary, with Alpha's first name and date of birth engraved behind it, Marie 12-05-85. And next to it was a simple plain silver wedding ring, his mother's. Then he extended his hand and showed his friends the jewelry.

_ This is Alpha's baptism medal and my mother's wedding ring, he said calmly. My cousin Svetlana gave me the ring some time after we met, as it had been left in her mother's care after my parents' death. And Alpha left her medal there as not to be identified by it. We both thought we could retrieve them sooner, but...

His voice failed him, and he broke into silent tears at last, but he quickly wiped them away. The past was behind him, he had to go on. So he shot a last look around him and, pocketing the chain and the ring, strode to the living room. There he glanced a last time at his old things, now meaningless, and exited the apartment. He waited next to the door for Sam and Briggs to go out, then closed and locked the door behind them. Sam and Briggs clapped him softly on the shoulder before climbing down the stairs, and that simple gesture warmed his heart.

He went down to the lobby and put the key in his landlord's mailbox, then they went back to the car. He took the wheel, still without a word, and drove them away to the airport, inwardly saying farewell to his old life.

When they came back to the Paladin, the sun was almost set, as the January days were very short in Russia. Kestrel was in the lead, but he stopped at the weapons rack and took out the black case containing Alpha's sniper rifle, a Cheytac M200, now his. He put it under his arm and headed straight to his cabin. Sam, who had seen him, bit back a comment and went with Briggs to the control room. Kestrel knew what his boss wanted to say. Guns were not allowed on the plane except in the cargo hold or Charlie's workshop, but he wanted to clean it alone before making some small adjustments.

Once in his cabin, he put the case on his bed and took out the chain and the ring. The two jewels were not matched, solid silver against thin gold, but it seemed to him they represented well his life, first in rough Russia, then in America, a short time with Alpha then alone again but with friends in both countries like the links on the chain. Smiling slightly he put the ring on the chain, where it dangled next to the medal, then put the chain around his neck. The chain was long enough to be invisible under most clothes, even if under a simple polo shirt like the one he was wearing the chain was clearly visible.

Then he opened the black case and very carefully took out the pieces of the rifle, putting them on his desk. He took his time to clean and polish them, focusing on his next job. He'd have to find Voronkov and kill him before he could shoot the president Terekhov, and he had to be mentally ready and fast. But he wondered if Avilov hadn't thought about a second sniper in case the first was disabled.

Then a memory surfaced in his mind, a mission he had done in Kyrgyzstan with Avilov and the Kossiak twins some five years ago. Kestrel had lost his sniper rifle in a nearly fatal fall while saving Ivan Kossiak, and Avilov had had to cover them with his rifle. A sniper rifle! he realized suddenly. The Voron commander was a sniper, so Grim and Charlie had better tracking down his movements during the president's meeting. And he had to tell his team about it.

After an hour cleaning and scrubbing, the rifle pieces looked brand new, and Kestrel felt satisfied. He assembled the rifle in swift movements and in no time was holding the 1,4-meter-long gun. He checked the mechanisms and telescopic sight and saw a tiny flaw in the loading chamber, some minor edge but that could slow down the rate of fire. So he got up from his chair in front of the desk and exited his cabin, heading towards the control room, rifle in hand.

When he entered, Sam and Grim were bent on a map of Vilyushinsk, discussing options, while Charlie and Briggs were each in front of a computer, working on Voron ops' locations. The team's eyes turned towards him, but he held their stare serenely. Grim looked impressed by the rifle he was holding, while Sam knitted his eyebrows. Kestrel started to speak first, before the Splinter Cell could reproach him for carrying a gun in the control room.

_ I know, Sam. I need to use Charlie's workshop. I have something to do on the rifle, but after that it'll go straight to its case, I swear. And I remembered something. Avilov is a sniper too.

Sam's grumbling expression disappeared, replaced by a concerned one.

_ I didn't see anything in his file, he said in astonishment.

_ No, I'd bet he hid it. But he's one, I've just remembered a mission I did with him and the Kossiak brothers. He was a good sniper. Not the best, but a good one.

_ That's bad news, Grim said while Briggs and Charlie went around the console. If he suspects something, he'll probably have a try at the president too.

_ That means we'll have to look out for two snipers at least, Sam said. I don't want to have any bad surprises. Kestrel, apart from you, Avilov, Dubov and Voronkov, who's a sniper inside Voron?

_ No one that I know of, the ops answered. But maybe some new recruits are snipers. It would be in their files.

_ And the files are in Russian, Briggs sighed. It'll take us hours to decipher them.

_ Not if I'm the one reading them, Kestrel said. The rifle can wait a little longer.

_ Right, Sam said. Take a seat, Charlie will make the files appear on his computer and you'll read them. And if you see snipers, send the profile of the ops on the SMI, we'll track them down. And Briggs, please carry the rifle to Charlie's workshop.

Kestrel handed the rifle to his teammate who took it grimly and left, then sat down in front of Charlie's computer. The tech searched in it and brought forward the Voron files.

_ There you go, he said to Kestrel. Good luck.

_ Thanks, Charlie.

Kestrel buried himself in the files of the operatives for a good hour, learning a few things on some of them and discovering the newcomers. And to his consternation he found two snipers. He sent their files on the SMI and said, getting up:

_ Two snipers to track.

The team gathered around the console and Grim displayed the cases. She read aloud:

_ Filippa Asthakova and Aleksandr Glazkov.

_ The woman was with Fedorova, Briggs recalled darkly.

_ And Glazkov is in the backup team of Avilov, if I'm not mistaken, Grim added.

_ Great, Sam grumbled. One sniper more in each enemy team. Lucky us.

Kestrel inwardly shared his disappointment, but soon shook himself. The mission would be really tough, but they'll succeed, he had no doubt about it.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Chapter 47 coming soon!


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Sam cooked the dinner, tonight salmon fish with rice and broccoli, and while making it he thought about Kestrel. His ops had retreated in Charlie's workshop and was tinkering with his sniper rifle, but Sam knew it was not only for the coming mission but mostly to be alone for a few moments. He had seen his distress while going to his old apartment and driving through his city, and he understood the ops' desire to accept the situation and draw a firm line under his previous life.

But the missions with some Voron ops wouldn't help him on that matter, Sam thought bitterly while putting his fish in the oven. He had seen the closeness between Kestrel and Kossiak, such a long friendship couldn't end abruptly. But the problem was that the two of them were now in different agencies, belonging to opposite countries. How would Kestrel manage all that?

Sam shook his head, scowling at himself. Just trust your ops, Fisher, he muttered under his breath. He would manage well, Kestrel was a smart guy. He knew where his loyalties lay and hadn't forgotten - and would never do - what his former agency had done to him. Even if some Voron members were trustworthy, like this Kossiak and Stepankova, the rest was just a bunch of utter bastards, Avilov and Fedorova in the lead. And that, Sam knew Kestrel, like himself, would never forget or forgive.

Soon the meal was ready, and Sam called his team in the dining cabin. Grim went to the kitchen to give him a hand, and he took advantage of it to kiss her and hug her tightly. Surprised at first, Grim responded passionately, and soon Sam pulled out to take some air. They really needed holidays, he thought, alone and cut from phones and computers. Grim smiled a little and said:

_ I'll be glad when these missions are over.

_ So will I, he sighed.

They took the dishes and brought them to the dining table. Around it, Briggs and Charlie were discussing quietly, but Kestrel hadn't showed up. Sam arched an eyebrow and asked:

_ Did someone warn Kestrel dinner was ready?

_ I did, Charlie said, but he didn't answer me. He was swearing in Russian over his rifle, and I really didn't want to anger him again. Once was enough for a lifetime, thank you very much.

Sam smirked before the apprehensive face of his tech and said:

_ I'll go and fetch him. Get started, or it'll be cold.

He strode towards the workshop and soon heard Kestrel's voice, swearing loudly as Charlie had said.

_ Чёрт возьми! Грёбаный ствол! _(Shit! Goddamn gun!)_

 ___ Kestrel? Sam called out as he entered the workshop.

He saw immediately that his ops, seated in front of a workbench, was in a towering temper, but was inhaling deeply to calm himself. He turned towards Sam after a few seconds and asked calmly:

_ Yes, Sam?

_ Dinner is ready, Kestrel. Charlie went to tell you, but apparently you didn't hear him.

_ No, Kestrel said, I suppose I scared him off. Alpha's gun is more resilient than I expected.

_ Have a break, then.

Kestrel got up and followed Sam. Sam saw him make a detour to the bathroom to wash his greasy hands, then took his seat next to Grim. Sam passed him the fish and the ops helped himself largely, with a huge amount of rice and broccoli. Sam, amused, ate his plate and watched Kestrel wolf down his and a second helping in a few minutes. The ops sure hadn't lost his appetite, but on the other hand he looked better with no signs of withdrawal.

The team ate in silence at first, but soon Kestrel's munching speed made Briggs comment sarcastically:

_ Obviously you've got a huge tapeworm in your guts to eat so much and so fast, mate. If I were you, I'd go straight to the doc and ask for a check-up.

_ If I were you, Kestrel grumbled between huge mouthfuls, I would shut up before I'd lose my teeth.

Sam laughed softly, followed by Grim and Charlie. Briggs, looking outraged, opened his mouth to speak but was cut by a ringing from Kestrel. Surprised, the ops dropped his fork and took out his smartphone.

_ Who the hell would call me? he wondered aloud.

_ Switch on your loudspeaker, Sam told him.

Kestrel picked up the line, and soon the team could hear the conversation.

_ Yes?

_ Let us forgive each other - only then will we live in peace, Sam heard Kossiak's voice, speaking in Russian.

_ Tolstoi, my favourite author, Kestrel said as calmly as ever. I have a book written by him in my bookcase, you're lucky.

_ Michka, we have a problem.

_ Can you speak English, Igor?

_ Sure, Kossiak said, switching language with a thick Russian accent. I was saying we have a problem.

_ What problem?

_ The president Terekhov has decided to have his meeting tomorrow instead of in three days, he said, obviously distressed. He wouldn't listen to me, and I fear Avilov suspects me of knowing his plans. He ordered Stepankova and me to come to Saint Petersburg to our headquarters and prepare the meeting, but he called in all his loyal ops, including those who were off-duty. Cristina has been told to stay in Moscow, but Avilov sent Aliokhin and Kablukov there to watch over her.

_ Indeed, that's bad news, Kestrel said, eyebrows furrowed. What can we do?

_ I'll have Poliakov and Kandinski staying here with Cristina to protect her, but it means I'll be short of two men around Terekhov. And I'd rather have trusted men around him. So I'd like you to tell me who among the Voron ops is currently not in Saint Petersburg, to avoid being stabbed in the back by Avilov's or Fedorova's men.

_ Can you hold the line for a few minutes? Kestrel asked while shooting an interrogating look at Sam, who nodded and got up, heading for the control room.

_ Yes, but make it quick, Kossiak said. Avilov is due to call me any minute now.

Sam ran to the SMI and watched Charlie and Grim bring forward the map of the Voron ops which updated itself. Kestrel surveyed the screen very carefully, muttering under his breath, still holding his smartphone. Sam caught some of his words, he was saying:

_ … in India, too far. Not this one, he's Avilov's bootlicker. And that one...

Finally, Kestrel said:

_ I see two men who could help you, Igor. But if you call them, be careful not to speak of me.

_ Tell me.

_ Ieshevskiy and Remizov. They're in Smolensk.

Silence followed Kestrel's words, and Sam sensed uneasiness on Kossiak's side. But at last the Russian said:

_ I'll call them. And it would be better indeed if you stayed away from them.

_ Do not send them to the Church on Spilled Blood and it should be all right, Kestrel said.

_ Will you be ready tomorrow? Kossiak asked grimly.

_ We will, Sam said. We'll contact you through your earpiece at 1.30 pm, if that suits you.

_ It does, Sam Fisher. Thanks. But please monitor Fedorova's movements. She left Saint Petersburg, I don't know where to, and I fear she's up to no good.

_ Don't worry, we'll hound her, Sam assured him. And be careful.

_ You too.

_ See you tomorrow, Igor, Kestrel said.

The line went dead, and Sam saw Kestrel inhale deeply.

_ Please excuse me, I have work to do before the mission. That rifle needs to be operational for tomorrow, and it'll take me time.

_ Okay, Kestrel, Sam nodded, as long as you don't forget to sleep. You and Briggs will leave tomorrow at 8 am and take position in your respective churches.

_ Copy. And please, no questions about Ieshevskiy and Remizov.

_ No questions, Sam promised him. You'll tell us whenever you want.

Kestrel nodded and went back to the workshop. Sam followed him with his eyes, then turned towards his other ops.

_ Are you ready, Briggs?

_ I am, the ops said seriously.

_ Then prepare your gear and Kestrel's, please.

Briggs nodded and headed towards the cargo hold. Sam then turned to the SMI and asked Grim and Charlie:

_ Where is Fedorova?

_ On it, Sam, Grim said.

Sam watched the two of them using their geek techniques, and a few minutes later the SMI came up with a location.

_ Valetta, Charlie read incredulously. Why is she in Malta?

_ To find Kobin, maybe, Grim grimaced. But what for?

_ Hold on a second, Sam said. Kobin's in Venezuela, remember? So why would Fedorova go to Malta if Kobin isn't there?

_ I have no idea, Grim said, but maybe I should tell Kobin to watch his back.

As if on cue, Grim's phone rang and she looked in disbelief at the number.

_ Speak of the devil... Hi, Kobin!

_ Hi! his loud and irritating voice boomed out of the loudspeaker. I just wanted to warn you that your favourite bitch Fedorova has ordered a hundred assault rifles, namely good smuggled FAMAS rifles, from yours truly.

_ Is it why she's in Malta, Kobin? Sam asked angrily.

_ Is she there already? We have an appointment on the 6th, she's due to carry the weapons away aboard a cargo boat of hers.

_ Glad to know, Grim seethed. So she's got a hundred men at her command?

_ I wouldn't know that, Ice Queen, Kobin whispered sweetly. I'm only a weapons provider, not a questioner.

_ Will you stop calling me that?! Grim exploded in fury.

_ Oh! I wouldn't dare anger you, sweetheart, but...

_ Think carefully about what you're going to say, Kobin, Sam rumbled, anger rising rapidly in him. I haven't forgotten the address of your museum in Valetta. And I think Kestrel would gladly accompany me to pay you a little visit.

_ Your sense of humour sucks, Kobin sighed. Well, I'll be off.

_ Wait, Sam said. Can any of your men check that cargo boat and see if there are a hundred men on board?

_ And why should I do this? What do I gain?

_ You save your ass, Sam growled, not hiding his annoyance. I'm fed up with your fiddles, Kobin, and on top of that you're arming our enemies. So I offer you a simple choice: either you call us back and tell us everything you can about that boat, or I'll fly to Malta with Kestrel and we'll gut you like a fish. How's the deal?

Silence answered him for a few seconds, then Kobin capitulated.

_ Okay, Fisher. I'll make inquiries and call you back. Just don't fight her in Malta.

_ That I can't promise. Behave, Kobin.

_ Yeah, see you in hell, Fisher.

Sam punched angrily the phone, cutting out the line. Then he looked at Grim and Charlie and saw they felt the same way he did.

_ I think we've just added another mission to our list, Grim summed up darkly.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

When Kestrel finally laid down the Cheytac sniper rifle, it was well after one in the morning. He had immersed himself so deeply in his task that he hadn't seen the time flying by. And when Sam had come to tell him the news about Fedorova in Malta and her deal with Kobin, it had angered him so much Sam had had to run out of the workshop to avoid flying tools. But Kestrel had calmed himself before breaking anything and concentrated on the rifle instead, imagining Fedorova's face when he would lay his hands on her and kill her slowly.

He rubbed his eyes, stretched then got up, taking the rifle with him as its case was in his cabin. As he headed towards his room, he noticed light in the control room and went to investigate. And, predictably, he saw Grim sitting in front of her computer, working and staring hard at her screen in spite of the bags under her eyes and her tight features.

_ Still working? Kestrel asked, making her jump. Sorry, didn't want to startle you.

_ It's okay, she said, a hand still on her chest. I thought you had gone to bed a long time ago.

_ I've just finished with the rifle, he explained calmly. But now I'll go to bed, and you ought to do the same, if I may.

_ You're right, she sighed. But Kobin's news concern me. What if Fedorova and Sarto are planning something nasty after the president's meeting tomorrow? Why does she need a hundred FAMAS?

_ You can be sure she and her dear lover are planning something nasty, Kestrel said sourly. But after our missions in Russia, we'll go to Malta and stop them.

He saw her shoot him a surprised look.

_ How can you accept such a bad situation so easily? she wondered aloud. It drives me crazy! We were all supposed to be on holidays, and it seems that this mission has no end! I can't stand it!

She had risen to her feet and shouted the last words out of tiredness and frustration, he saw it. But he said nothing, and she soon realized what she had said.

_ Please forgive me, Kestrel, she said apologetically. I'm really sorry. I know you're the one who has suffered much more than all of us put together, and you're not complaining. I'm sorry.

_ Don't be, he said after a few seconds of deep breathing and sophrology. We're all reaching breaking point, we all need well-earned holidays, and you more than anyone, Grim. You have considerable responsibility on your shoulders, and any other person in your shoes would've cracked under the pressure long ago. As for me, I'm all right. Don't worry.

She had a sad smile and said softly:

_ You know how to comfort people, Kestrel. That's a handy talent.

_ It won't help me in a few hours, I'm afraid, he said calmly. No need to talk to our targets.

_ No, indeed, she nodded gravely. And I think it would be better for everyone, you and our Voron friends included, if Avilov dies today.

_ I agree, he said grimly. If I have him in firing range, I won't hesitate.

She nodded again and said:

_ Well, we should have some rest, at least until dawn.

Kestrel smiled.

_ Don't forget you're in Saint Petersburg. In January dawn isn't until 9 am. We'd be quite late.

_ True, she sighed as they set off towards the crew area.

They walked in silence to their cabins, and she wished him goodnight before entering her cabin, looking exhausted. Kestrel went into his, disassembled the rifle and put the pieces in the black case, then went to wash his hands and arms. While doing so he examined himself in the mirror above the sink and was satisfied to see his eyes had a better and healthier look, but not completely normal yet.

_ Nearly there, Kestrel, he muttered. Don't give up.

In truth, he had felt an urge to drink vodka earlier that night but had resisted it easier than the last days. He knew the withdrawal would last a few more weeks, but its effects would soon fade before disappearing.

With a huge sigh he went back to his room and soon fell asleep.

* * *

It seemed to him the night had only lasted a few minutes when his OPSAT woke him up at 6.30 am. Feeling tired and unrested, he got up and had a hot shower to help him shaking out the need of sleep. Then he dressed in civilian clothes but put a light bullet-proof vest underneath his polo shirt, following Sam's orders. And he put the chain with Alpha's pendant and his mother's ring around his neck, vowing to wear it at all times except when wearing his tac suit.

When he was ready, he went to the dining cabin and, as he was the first one in there, prepared the coffee and set the table. By the time the coffee was ready, Sam had entered the room, looking sleepy but determined.

_ Hi, Sam, Kestrel said. Sorry for yesterday.

Sam shot him a puzzled look, and Kestrel explained:

_ The tools I threw in the workshop.

_ Oh, that! Sam waved away the apology. Don't mention it, Kestrel. As a matter of fact, I almost destroyed the desk in my cabin last night, since I was furious after that slimeball Kobin. He'd better phone us back with info soon or I'll hold my promise of gutting him like a fish with your help.

_ What a pleasant thing it would be! Kestrel said, imagining the scene while serving them the coffee.

_ Yeah, but we'll deal with him later. Are you ready?

Kestrel saw the staring look Sam wore and knew his boss wasn't just asking about his rifle. He wanted to know if his ops was physically and above all mentally ready for the job, and Kestrel answered him honestly, locking eyes with him.

_ I am ready, Sam.

Sam nodded, and they both ate in silence, soon joined by Briggs, Grim and Charlie. Breakfast was quickly eaten, then the team gathered in the control room to review the last details. Kestrel watched a long time the photos of the possible snipers they would have to neutralize: Avilov, Voronkov, Asthakova and Glazkov. Then Sam said:

_ Briggs, Kestrel, you know what to do. Only one goal: the president Terekhov must be alive and safe when he ends his meeting. Do whatever you have to do, I don't care, we'll count the dead tonight. We'll patch up with Kossiak and his team around 1 pm, and Grim and Charlie will localize our enemies for you to watch. And Kestrel, he added, looking into the ops' eyes, Avilov must die.

_ Copy, he said calmly.

Briggs walked in front of him to the cargo hold, where they both grabbed their sniper rifle and hid them in backpacks, under junk food and tourist trinkets in case some zealous policeman searched them. Kestrel also took his Ka-Bar and strapped it to his ankle, and Briggs imitated him with his own knife. Then they went down the ramp and climbed into the van Jun had driven from the nearest rent station, and Kestrel drove them to the historical Saint Petersburg.

Briggs, who had never set foot in the city before, looked impressed by the magnificent buildings they passed, and compared the Nevsky Prospect, the huge avenue leading to the Palace Square, to the Paris Champs-Élysées. Kestrel didn't comment, he was too busy focusing on his job and didn't want to allow any emotions inside his mind. He parked the van a hundred meters away from Briggs' church, the Kazan cathedral, and told him, checking his watch:

_ It's 8. 42 am. The church opened a few minutes ago, but don't forget the mass will start at ten. Lucky you, I have to wait until 10.30 for mine to open, I'll be quite cold. Fortunately there's not too much snow.

_ Good luck, mate, Briggs said, clapping him on the shoulder.

_ One last thing, Kestrel reluctantly added. I hate to say that but your dark skin will make you easily spotted here. Try and blend in a crowd of tourists if you can.

_ Don't worry, Briggs grinned and winked, it's already planned. Charlie found me a group from Chicago who's due to visit at 9.15 am.

_ That's great. See you when it's all over, then.

Briggs nodded a last time, put on a balaklava and a thick coat and exited the van, grabbing his backpack. Kestrel then drove to the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, parked at some distance from it and began casually strolling along the Moika, the small river which flowed into the Neva, backpack on his shoulder. He had put on a thick chapka and duffel coat, so he didn't feel too much cold, even if a bitter wind was blowing from the west. The snow was only four inches deep, a child's play for him.

The memories were sharp and nudging his mind, so he decided to let one forward as to not going mad. He remembered walking along that river with Alpha, after a particularly nasty killing of a Voron bastard. Though ruthless and merciless towards his enemies, and especially that one who had tortured him in Koltsovo for weeks, he killing the man had made Alpha uneasy as it had involved watching their target bleeding to death after cutting his throat. He hadn't realized the cruelty of his act before seeing the disgust and shock on Alpha's face, and he had felt ashamed of himself. But she had put a hand on his arm, overcoming her revulsion, and smiled at him, seeing the suffering man and not the butcher. He had felt so grateful then it hurt him to think about this moment again.

Breathing deeply he stopped and turned his gaze towards the magnificent illuminated cathedral where he would hide and take position. The beauty of its gracious domes and bright colors warmed his heart and allowed him to focus on his task again. He knew he needed a break and take stock of his career and goals, but that would have to wait. He had a job to do.

He resumed his casual walk, frowning at the timid rising sun and dark clouds. He felt snow coming rather than knowing it, but that was bad news. A snowstorm would be a disaster for Briggs and him, even if the telescopic sight on his rifle had night and infrared vision. He checked his surroundings, making sure he was completely alone, then said through his implants:

_ Grim? Sam? You there?

_ We're here, Kestrel, Sam answered him at once. What's the problem?

_ What's the weather forecast for today, please?

_ Hang on, Grim said.

He waited for a few seconds and heard her answer him, a little concerned.

_ Snow this morning, around ten inches, then clear weather but strong winds of seventy miles per hour in the afternoon.

_ Forget the clear weather, Kestrel sighed, knowing by heart the sky above the city and the cold Russian winter climate. It's going to snow all day. But I believe you about the winds. Чёрт! _(Shit!)_

_ Kestrel, Sam's rumble resonated in his ear, you sure about it?

_ Positive, Sam.

_ That's going to complicate things, Briggs chimed in the conversation. My rifle has only night vision.

_ You'll manage, Sam tried to reassure them. I trust you both to do the job, even if there's indeed a snowstrom this afternoon. We'll help you with our satellite views and Voron's earpieces.

_ But my church is eight hundred meters away from the square, Briggs complained, and Kestrel's one too. In a snowstorm that's quite far!

_ Don't worry, Sam said as calmly as he could. Maybe Kestrel's wrong and the snow will stop before the meeting.

_ I'd like to be wrong, Kestrel said. Unfortunately I believe I'm not.

_ Either way, you'll do the job nevertheless, Sam said firmly. We can't let Avilov and Fedorova kill the president Terekhov. A snowstorm would be quite a lame excuse if we fail to protect him.

_ True, Briggs admitted.

_ And don't forget the snow will impair our enemies too, Grim said. Our chances to shoot them before any killing attempt on their side are greater with bad weather.

_ You're right, Kestrel said calmly.

He didn't want to dampen the team's spirit by telling them that Russian forces were often training in bad weather and snowstorms, and set his mind. He had had that harsh training too, he had to be the one countering their enemies.

_ Right, Sam said. Briggs? You see your tourist group?

_ Yes. Won't be hard to join them.

_ Good. Kestrel? Still freezing your ass outside?

_ It's not too cold, actually, Kestrel replied calmly. Only -5°C, that's quite warm for January in Saint Petersburg.

_ I'm really going to call you Mr Freeze, Briggs grumbled.

_ No, you won't, Kestrel smiled. Unless you want a reorganization of your dental work.

_ Concentrate, you two, Sam said but with a light tone which betrayed his smile aboard the Paladin. Take position as soon as possible and report at 11 am sharp.

_ Copy, Briggs said.

_ Copy, Kestrel echoed, resuming his walk.

He treaded in the snow, looking around him for threats, but nobody was around. So he walked and walked again, waiting for the opening of the cathedral, and when it was time he gladly entered the huge building, admiring the mosaics and icons, until he could slip unnoticed into the small staircase leading to the summit of the highest dome. He ignored every sign that said "No entry", knowing there weren't any alarms, and climbed until being at the very top of the staircase on a small landing opened to the outside, right underneath the dome.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

The view overlooking downtown Saint Petersburg was breathtaking, but Kestrel gathered his bearings. From where he was, he could see part of the Palace Square, but most important, all the buildings' roofs where the enemy snipers would most certainly take position.

So he assembled his Cheytac, put a special blanket upon the stone floor and lay on it. Then he covered himself entirely with another thin blanket, both of which were designed to mask his body heat signature, and would also protect him from the freezing cold and bitter winds blowing harder than upon the ground, some seventy meters under him. Then he started to wait, inwardly thanking Dr Collins of having cured him of his balance trouble when in heights. Without him he would have had a cardiac arrest for sure.

At 11 am, Kestrel waited for the huge bell of the Saint Isaac Cathedral to stop chiming, then addressed the team through his implants:

_ Kestrel, in position. All clear.

_ Briggs, in position, his teammate said a second later. All clear.

_ Good, Sam said in Kestrel's ears. We're looking for movements from our friends and enemies, but so far they're all at Voron headquarters, as far as we can tell. But we've got news from Kobin.

Sam fell silent, and Kestrel guessed the news were not good.

_ Fedorova's got a boat with indeed a hundred men aboard, and their supposed destination after the meeting with Kobin and the arms shipment is Turkey.

_ We can't let them destabilize the region, Briggs said immediately. It's already complicated with Syria and Lebanon, we don't need Turkey to be put to fire and the sword too.

_ I agree, Grim said. But first things first. We'll protect the president Terekhov, then we'll go to Vilyushinsk, and only after that will we take care of Fedorova's boat.

_ I'll be monitoring movements around you, Charlie said. If anyone approaches one of you, I'll let you know. Kestrel, you're well hidden, no problem. But Briggs, the satellite shows your feet sticking out of nowhere.

_ Shit, Briggs grumbled, and Kestrel laughed under his breath.

_ That's better, Charlie said. Now you've both disappeared from view.

_ Take advantage of the time you have, Sam advised his ops. Eat now and have a little nap, we'll wake you up at 12.30.

_ Roger that, Briggs said.

_ Copy, Kestrel said.

He reached in his backpack and pulled out a cold ration, eating it while deploring its lack of taste and deciding to cook something good the next day to make up for it. He drank large gulps of water then settled himself as best he could on the blanket, and within five minutes dozed off but staying on alert nevertheless.

At 12.30 he was shaken out of his slumber by Sam's voice.

_ Report, please.

_ Briggs, in position, all clear.

_ Kestrel, in position, all clear, he said with a rather hoarse voice.

_ Sounds like you had a real nap, Kestrel, Sam said with an amused tone. Good. We saw some movement at Voron's headquarters and around, the ops are moving and coming closer to you. Stay alert and report anything worthy of attention. Kossiak will contact us in an hour.

_ Copy, both ops said.

Kestrel took his rifle and shouldered it, using the telescopic sight to watch the scarce crowd on the ground and in the Palace Square. Tourists were milling around, snapping pictures, while the residents walked briskly, eager to get done with their things before retreating to a warm place with hot tea or vodka. The snow had started to fall in huge flakes, covering the streets and muffling the sounds, but the wind was still light.

In the center of the square, just at the foot of the Winter Palace, a huge stage had been erected and was swarming with people, techs and security agents. The president Terekhov wasn't due there until 6 pm, but the stage was double-checked, and carefully surveyed.

Just before one o'clock he spotted the Voron ops, looking strange in thick classic black suits and earpieces, Kossiak in the lead. Kestrel counted them, scanned the square and its surroundings, and smirked. For the first time in years, he was happy to be a former Voron ops, he knew exactly how his friends and targets alike would act.

_ Sam? he asked softly.

_ Listening, Kestrel.

_ Our friends have arrived, but they're tailed by four hostile ops.

_ Detail that, please.

_ In the square, Kossiak, Stepankova, Marinov, Jdan, Kniazev, Ivkin, Ieshevskiy and Remizov. Tailing them Beria, Dmitriev, Barychev and a woman I assume is Lebedeva. They're hiding in the four corners of the square.

_ Right, Sam said. It matches what we had on the satellite screen, but we don't know who is who. We'll ask Kossiak to call every member of his team to identify them, but for the enemies...

_ Lebedeva is in the south, Kestrel cut him softly. Beria is the one next to the Winter Palace, Dmitriev is in the far west, and I can't see Barychev anymore but he must be in the east corner.

_ Okay, Charlie said. These ones are marked.

_ No sign of snipers? Sam asked.

_ None, Kestrel said.

_ Don't see anyone on the rooftops, Briggs added.

_ Too early, Kestrel said. If I were them, I'd wait for the sun to set, near 4 pm.

_ That's what I thought, Sam said, but stay sharp.

_ Copy, Briggs and Kestrel said.

Kestrel resumed his surveillance, following every movement. The square was being evacuated of its tourists for the coming meeting, and the public wouldn't enter before 5 pm. He saw Kossiak order his team to station at strategic places around the stage, while he himself would stay at the president's shoulder at all times. The snow was falling harder now, and a bitter wind was blowing from the sea, farther west.

At precisely 1.30 pm he saw Kossiak shoot furtive glances around him and raise a hand to his mouth, covering his words. And simultaneously he heard his voice in his ears.

_ Kossiak here. Do you copy?

_ We copy, Sam answered him. We see and hear you loud and clear.

_ I fear we're followed. Avilov clearly doesn't trust me anymore, he sent a lot of agents around the square.

_ We see four around you already, but no sign of the snipers yet.

_ Are they in position?

_ Here, Briggs said.

_ Here, Kestrel echoed.

_ Right, Kossiak said, pretending to rub his chin. We'll look out for external threats, and you'll watch our backs. I don't know where the off-duty ops will be, Avilov has done his thing alone.

_ Please relax, Sam told him. We'll cover you and your team, and the president. We need you to call your team to identify them and patch up with their earpieces, so we'll be able to communicate. And don't worry, no one will be able to hear anything.

_ Right. I'll call them by their codesign, they know you're listening. After that, silence unless there's an emergency.

_ Copy, Sam said. Good luck, Igor Kossiak.

_ Don't let us down, Sam Fisher.

Kossiak let his hand down and called in his earpiece, speaking Russian:

_ Kite?

_ Stepankova, in position.

_ Goshawk?

_ Marinov, in position.

_ Sparrowhawk?

_ Jdan, in position.

_ Hobby?

_ Kniazev, in position.

_ Merlin?

_ Ivkin, in position.

_ Caracara?

_ Ieshevskiy, in position.

_ Falconet?

_ Remizov, in position.

_ Right. Radio off.

Kestrel almost said something out of a long habit but restrained himself. He was no longer a Voron ops, even if he had kept his codesign, "Kestrel". He was truly like a bird of prey, atop his church and looking down from behind his sniper rifle, but he was a Fourth Echelon ops, an American ops. So he breathed deeply and called out softly:

_ Sam?

_ Here, Kestrel.

_ Nothing. Just...

His voice trailed off, and he slapped himself virtually. He was being stupid, he knew it. But he also knew Sam would understand. In his telescopic sight he suddenly saw two of his targets and smiled. He had something to say to his boss, after all.

_ Avilov's there. In front of the Saint Isaac Cathedral, holding a suitcase. Voronkov is with him, also with a suitcase.

_ Good, Sam said. Charlie is on them. Which one is Avilov?

_ The one on my right.

_ Got him, Charlie said. These two won't be able to escape us.

_ We still need to find Glazkov and Asthakova, Grim sobered him up.

_ Keep your eyes open, Sam said to his team. We're not there yet.

Kestrel watched Avilov through his telescopic sight with growing hatred. The Voron commander had always been a son of a bitch, but he was probably the murderer of Ivan Kossiak, and that, for Kestrel, was enough to give him a painful death. He knew he couldn't do it yet, but later that night... He smiled at himself. Yes, he thought, no matter what would happen, tonight would be the last night for Leonid Aleksandrovitch Avilov.

The afternoon passed by and the snow fell harder than ever. At some point the wind was blowing so loudly and violently Kestrel's blanket almost flew out of him, but he caught it and secured it tightly on him again. Briggs had spotted Diatlova and Muratov, Fedorova's bootlickers, at the foot of the Bronze Horseman, but they were staying out of the Palace Square, not threatening Kossiak and his team yet. Voronkov was in the Saint Isaac Cathedral, taking position, and Avilov was in the Hermitage museum, probably sipping a hot cup of tea while his team was freezing their asses outside, Kestrel thought.

At 5 pm, the gates opened and Terekhov's supporters invaded the square, undeterred by the snowstorm hovering above Saint Petersburg. Kestrel saw Kossiak running inside the Winter Palace, probably coming to Terekhov's side, while the rest of the team around the stage watched the crowd with a neutral expression. Kestrel knew the moment was approaching, and he sighed with anticipation.

* * *

Reaching 50 chapters! That's so awesome! Thanks for reading, and please, please, please write me a tiny review! I would like to know if all this work is worth it, please! So... chapter 50 coming soon!


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Long before 5.30 pm the Palace Square was crowded with Terekhov's supporters and burstling with activity and chants. Kestrel still could see the Voron team around the stage, but the enemy ops were nowhere to be seen, having disappeared in the crowd. He knew Charlie and Grim were keeping a tab on them, but he feared they would try and shoot the president from among the people. As Voron ops, they wouldn't be frisked for guns, that was a problem.

_ Sam? he called out softly.

_ Here, Kestrel, his boss answered immediately, tension growing in his voice.

_ The ops on the ground, maybe they're armed and will try their luck at shooting the president from the crowd. And I can't cover the whole square, some great portion is hidden from me.

_ Same for me, Briggs said.

_ We feared something like that, Sam confirmed. I was going to tell Kossiak and his team about it.

_ Another one from Voron on the square... no, two, Charlie announced. These two are unmarked. Kestrel, in the northwestern corner, right at the foot of that yellow building's columns...

_ The Admiralty, Kestrel told him. Yes, I see them. The one with the thick chapka is Arkadiy Pavlov and the other one is Avilov's usual bodyguard, Ivan Kraiev. I suppose these two will just watch things from afar, Pavlov is a coward.

_ Okay, I'll report to Kossiak, Sam said.

Kestrel heard silence for half a second as Charlie tuned into Voron's frequency, then Sam asked:

_ Kossiak?

_ Да?

_ I know you must speak Russian, don't worry I understand it enough. This is for you, and your team can hear it too. Pavlov and Kraiev are there, but far from you. But we fear Lebedeva, Dmitriev, Barychev and Beria will attack from the ground, among the crowd.

_ Как это их положение? _(What are their position?)_

 ___ Beria is right behind the stage, Grim said, Dmitriev is at the foot of the tall Alexander column, Barychev is under a porch of the building east of the square and Lebedeva is among a cluster of people twenty meters south of the front of the stage.

_ Спасибо. _(Thank you)_

Kestrel heard his old friend give orders, and four of his agents got ready to intercept their fellow but enemy ops as soon as the meeting would start. Kestrel heard Briggs suggest:

_ Can't we jam the enemies' comms? That would be easier to disturb their schemes.

_ No, Charlie said. Too much interference with all the media here for the meeting. And we would risk jamming our own, we don't want that.

_ You'll do the job old-fashioned style, Sam said, by sight but with a little help from us.

_ By sight, Briggs groaned. You realize this fucking wind carries swirling snowflakes? I don't see three meters before my nose!

_ The wind is slowing down, Kestrel said. In a few minutes it'll die down, but the snow will continue to fall.

_ You're a weather wizard, Kestrel, Grim said, sounding impressed. You're absolutely right.

_ Right, Sam said, concentrate, all of you. The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.

_ Still no sign of the snipers, Charlie said. I'd bet they're wearing shielding blankets like you. You'll have to find them on sight.

_ Blast! Briggs said.

Kestrel scanned the rooftops through the snow without a word, and only asked:

_ Briggs, can you see Voronkov?

_ No.

Kestrel focused on the Saint Isaac Cathedral one mile away from him, carefully searching for his target, then spotted him right underneath the great cupola. He smiled slightly and said:

_ Target acquired.

_ Ten minutes to the start, Sam said. That's a go, Kestrel. Neutralize him.

_ Copy.

Kestrel took careful aim and concentrated hard, waited one more minute for the wind to decrease, then pulled the trigger. The Cheytac emitted a soft _thwump_ , and a mile away he saw Voronkov crashing on the floor, a bullet right in the middle of his forehead.

_ Target down, he said calmly.

_ Well done, Sam said. From now on, we'll stay patched up with the Voron team, so watch your words. Briggs, you're Red and Kestrel, Blue. Kossiak? Voronkov's dead.

_ Хорошо. _(Good)_

_ I see Asthakova, Briggs said. Admiralty's roof, she's ready to shoot.

_ Terekhov's coming, Kestrel said as the crowd cheered to greet the Russian president, smiling and waving, Kossiak right behind him.

_ Go, Red, Sam said.

Kestrel scanned the rooftops again while Briggs said:

_ Target down.

He could hear the crowd's applause and Terekhov's reverberated words echoing to his church, but he had to find the other two snipers quickly. Glazkov was clearly hiding well, and Avilov...

_ Where's Avilov? he asked Charlie.

_ He shut down his phone! the raging tech announced. I don't know where he is. Two minutes ago he was still in the Winter Palace. And all the enemy ops are switching off their phones too! Shit!

_ Stay focused, Sam said firmly, talking to his team but also to Kossiak's team. We roughly know where they are, just stay alert.

Kestrel concentrated hard, imagining himself in Glazkov's skin. If he were a Voron sniper, having to kill Terekhov, where would he position himself?

His eyes drifted onto the triumphal ark with the Roman quadriga on top, just in front of the stage where Terekhov was addressing a delighted crowd. And he saw the sniper, just a fraction of a hooded head behind a long barrel.

_ Red, he told Briggs, atop the triumphal ark, underneath the statues. Do you have him?

_ No, some horse thing is blocking my range.

Kestrel shifted position a little and focused on Glazkov's head. He could see enough of it to kill him, but it would be a tough shot. He exhaled, stopped his breath and pulled the trigger. Again the Cheytac emitted a soft sound, and at the foot of the statue horses Glazkov's body slumped down, rifle under him.

_Target down. Three down, he added for himself. One left, and that one's mine.

He knew Avilov would have to find another place than the Winter Palace to shoot from. The stage had a roof sheltering Terekhov from the snow and from any attack from the Palace behind him. In the square, he caught a sudden movement near the column. Through his telescopic sight he saw that Dmitriev had drawn out a pistol and was aiming at Terekhov, in spite of the people yelling around him. Terekhov's stage wasn't far, and Kestrel saw Ieshevskiy running in front of him, shielding the president and taking out his gun. Dmitriev changed aim and was about to shoot Ieshevskiy when Kestrel shot. Dmitriev dropped his gun, blood pouring from his right ear, and fell on the cobblestones, at the feet of a very startled Ieshevskiy. Kestrel heard:

_ Спасибо. _(Thank you)_

_ Well done, Blue, Sam told him.

He stayed silent, concentrating on finding Avilov. The commotion had been unnoticed by Terekhov and his staff, and Dmitriev's body was being surreptitiously evacuated from the square by standing-by paramedics. He heard Stepankova say:

_ Beria and Lebedeva in custody. Dmitriev dead.

_ Three people in front of the Admiralty, Briggs said. Pavlov and two others.

_ Barychev and Kraiev, Marinov said. They're running away. What do we do?

_ Take them down, Kossiak murmured.

So Kestrel and Briggs shot the three unsuspecting men who crumpled to the ground like dislocated puppets.

_ Targets down, Briggs said as Kestrel was reloading his rifle.

_ Blue, Charlie said. Someone's coming to your place.

Kestrel watched at the foot of the church and saw a silhouette treading in knee-deep snow towards the entrance. He recognized the brisk pace and the stiff leg from a wound during a mission in Afghanistan ten years ago, his very first one with Voron. And the suitcase the man was holding. He felt a ruthless smile stretch his lips and said:

_ That's Avilov coming to greet me. How nice!

He heard a choke in his ear and Ieshevskiy's voice asked with disbelief:

_ Kestrel?

_ Hush, Kossiak muttered.

Kestrel, though annoyed at having been discovered by Voron's friendly team and especially Ieshevskiy, with whom he had an old grudge still running, pushed aside the thought for later consideration. He saw Avilov entering the church, no doubt wanting to use Kestrel's spot to shoot down the president Terekhov. So Kestrel silently rose, grabbed his blankets, rifle and backpack and hid them in a dark corner. Then he unsheathed his Ka-Bar and waited in the shadows.

A minute later he heard footsteps coming closer to him, and soon Avilov emerged from the spiral staircase. Kestrel was right behind him and waited for his old fellow comrade to settle down on the floor, rifle almost ready. Then he silently approached him and in swift movements stabbed through Avilov's wrists, kneeling hard on his back.

Avilov's scream was quickly muffled by Kestrel's strong hand, and the American ops said calmly:

_ Charlie, tune me off for those who don't want to hear this.

Then he bent to Avilov's right ear and said in Russian:

_ Hi, Leonid Aleksandrovitch. Long time no see, but I didn't miss you.

_ Mikhail Andreyevitch, Avilov groaned. I knew I should've had you killed long ago.

_ Yes, shame on you. But you're too late, I'm afraid.

_ This is not the end, bastard! Meggido will kill Terekhov sooner or later.

_ If I were you, Kestrel said calmly, I wouldn't rely too much on Fedorova's plans. You see, after tonight, she and her fiancé were planning to have you killed by a friend of theirs, Juan Esteban. Not that you need to worry about that now, as I am the one who's going to kill you.

_ You're lying! Avilov spat, but with a quivering voice, his body shaking with fear. My team...

_ What team? Kestrel asked ruthlessly. Dmitriev? Dead. Barychev? Dead. Kraiev? Dead. Beria and Lebedeva? In custody. Pavlov? Dead. Not many people left, I'm afraid, Leonid. And you're going to pay for Ivan's death.

_ I don't believe you! Avilov said pitifully. You're lying, Loskov!

_ You should know by now, Kestrel said, raising his knife. I never lie, Leonid.

And Kestrel stabbed, and stabbed again. He lost control, his mind went blank as his anger took the upper hand of his body and movements. Twenty years' worth of hardships and suffering, before and since Voron's betrayal poured out of him, cristallizing in him murdering Avilov. The Voron commander died a slow and excruciating death, but when he exhaled his last breath Kestrel wasn't done with him yet. And when Kestrel finally stopped stabbing his prey and was back in his right mind, he saw that Avilov's face was so crushed and bloody it was unrecognizable. He saw he had stabbed him at least a hundred times, and was kneeling in a pool of blood.

He rose to his feet, his hands and clothes soaked with blood, his knife still in hand. He stood there, his mind in disarray, unaware of anything except the spinning in his head that was blurring his vision fast. Then he noticed two people coming next to him and recognized Briggs and Stepankova. His teammate asked him something, looking concerned, but he didn't understand him. He felt his hand open and the knife falling out of it, and his knees gave way beneath him. Strong hands caught him before he could crumple to the ground, but he felt himself falling backwards and blacked out.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

When Sam heard Kestrel ask Charlie to tune him off, he knew at once that announced trouble and ordered his tech to cut Kestrel's connexion with everyone except himself, Kossiak and Stepankova. And when he heard Kestrel murdering Avilov, he was glad not to be there to watch the carnage. Kestrel lashed out, completely out of his mind, groaning and swearing in Russian. Sam heard Avilov's moans and pleading, but Kestrel clearly couldn't hear anything. So Sam asked Briggs to go and fetch his ops, and Kossiak did the same with Stepankova.

Kestrel howled and stabbed for a good ten minutes, and Sam listened to his raging words. He had clearly underestimated his ops' ordeals, and the violence of it came crashing into his certainty. He understood better Kestrel's reactions and depression, his need of holidays and questions. Kestrel was torn apart, having been loyal to the death to Voron and Russia, and now loyal to the US and Fourth Echelon but with friends in Voron. Torn apart by Alpha's death who was still torturing his conscience. Torn apart by all the tortures and suffering he endured for months and couldn't get out of his mind, taunting and scaring him yet again. Torn apart by twenty years of hardships and loneliness, and no bright future ahead of him.

Sam was appalled, and he felt his fists clench and his jaws tighten. He realized he was crying when he felt salt on his lips and saw Grim's and Charlie's anxious stares on him. But he wiped angrily his tears away and forced himself to listen to his ops's distress until Kestrel fell silent at last. A few minutes later he heard Briggs ask:

_ Kestrel? Are you all right?

Sam wanted to shout at him that Kestrel was not all right, but he heard Briggs say:

_ Whoa, Kestrel! Hey, mate!

_ He lost consciousness, he heard Stepankova say grimly. We'll carry him to your car. Where is it?

_ Charlie? Briggs asked.

_ Just a second, Briggs, Charlie said, using the satellite view. Okay, it's parked behind the church, fifty meters down the street.

_ Where are those damn keys? Briggs muttered. Yuck, there's blood everywhere... Okay, got them.

_ Kossiak? Stepankova called out. We could use extra help here. And the scene is quite... messy.

_ Jdan and Marinov are on their way to help you, Kossiak answered. They'll clean after you. How's he?

_ Not injured, Stepankova said, but probably in shock and pretty much out of it.

_ I never realized...

_ Me neither, Stepankova said, her voice trembling.

Sam decided to intervene. He drew a long breath and said:

_ Don't blame yourselves. It's done, he just needs time to overcome all this. How's the president?

_ President Terekhov is safe, Kossiak said. But for Voron it's another matter. We caught Diatlova and Muratov, but we'll discuss it later. The president wants to speak to me about what happened tonight, and Kestrel needs rest. Let's meet tomorrow.

_ Okay, Sam agreed. Where?

_ The Winter Palace. It's a museum, but we have a nice meeting room there, and the curator is a friend of mine. Our teams will debrief together at 10 am, if that's okay?

_ Right. Briggs?

_ I have Kestrel's gear, his ops said, and two guys are carrying him down the stairs. Almost to the car.

_ Okay. I'll call Dr Collins. See you tomorrow, Kossiak.

_ Good night, Sam Fisher. And thanks.

Sam gestured at Charlie to cut the communication with Voron and said to Briggs:

_ Report to me as soon as you're alone, Briggs.

_ Okay. We're putting Kestrel in the van.

Sam turned to Grim and smiled bitterly.

_ One mission done.

_ But at what price? she wondered, grimacing.

Sam didn't answer, dreading to discover it. Then Briggs said through the intercom:

_ En route to the Paladin.

_ Briggs, Sam said. What did Kestrel do to Avilov?

Briggs didn't answer at once, and that confirmed Sam's bad feeling.

_ He stabbed him, I'd say more than seventy times and near a hundred, he said at last with a carefully controlled voice which told Sam his ops was freaking out. Smashed his face into a pulp, literally. There was blood everywhere, and he's covered in it. It wasn't pretty, Sam.

_ Yeah, I heard it.

Sam gulped down his emotion and added:

_ Do you remember the route to the airport?

_ Yeah, but the roads are covered in snow. Don't expect us until a good hour at least.

_ Copy. Take care.

Sam fell silent, staring at nothing in particular, his thoughts wandering. He desperately needed a break, like all his team, and the sooner the better. He asked Grim:

_ Could we do the mission in Vilyushinsk a day sooner than planned?

_ I suppose so, she said, but there is the problem of the extraction.

_ I'll ask Kossiak if he could do a little bit more about it, Sam said. After all, we saved his skin today, along with his president's, and Kestrel really saved one of his men.

_ About that, Charlie told him seriously. I wanted to know something.

_ Sure. Ask away.

_ You know the first shot of Kestrel? The one which killed Voronkov?

_ Yeah. What about it?

_ I checked the weather at that precise moment. The wind was blowing at ninety miles per hour and the snow was falling so thickly that even with an infrared vision on his telescopic sight he shouldn't have been able to see at more than five hundred meters before him. Or Voronkov was in the Saint Isaac Cathedral, a kilometer and a half away from him. How the fuck did he do that?

Sam exhaled for a long time, then said softly:

_ You have to accept that Kestrel has exceptional talents that nobody can explain, not even him. He acquired them against his will and payed so much for it he would rather die than revive that experience again. So we won't tell him about it and consider it as a handy talent he's got, but nothing more. Agreed?

_ Yes, Sam.

_ Sam? Grim asked him, worry on her face. What have you heard when he killed Avilov?

Sam shuddered, startling Grim and Charlie. He didn't know if one day he would be able to forget Kestrel's cries full of pain and violence, but he knew one thing for sure: his ops needed support more than ever, so the team would be there for him in any way he would need. At last he said, quoting Kestrel's words:

_ I heard twenty years of suffering killing a loathed enemy.

_ Oh my God! Charlie murmured. No wonder he's fainted.

_ Overwhelmed, Sam confirmed. Charlie, please go and see Dr Collins. Tell him Kestrel will need him.

Charlie nodded and exited the room. Then Sam let some of his emotion out and buried his face onto Grim's shoulder. She hugged him tightly and said:

_ Was it as terrible as I think?

He simply nodded, fighting his anguish. He needed some time too, but he would have to wait. His team needed a strong, determined leader. So he allowed himself two more minutes onto his love's shoulder then raised again, breathing deeply. Grim smiled bravely at him and said:

_ I'm here, too, my love. You know you can rely on me.

_ I know. Thanks, honey.

She grinned widely and kissed him, and he felt better. She said:

_ I'm off to the kitchen to cook dinner.

_ Yeah, thanks.

He kissed her a last time, then went to have a long shower.

When he came back to the control room where Grim, Charlie and Dr Collins were waiting, he heard Briggs say through the intercom:

_ We'll be at the ramp in two minutes, but Kestrel is waking.

_ Okay, agent Briggs, the doc said calmly. Act calm and normal, and answer all his questions.

_ Copy.

Sam ran to the ramp, followed by the doc, Grim, Charlie and the crew members Ollie and Jun. The van parked right next to it a few seconds later, and Briggs hopped down, running to the back. He wrenched the doors open and said pleadingly:

_ You can go out, now, mate! Don't freak!

Sam saw Kestrel jump out of the van, hands, face and clothes matted with dried blood, eyes wild. His ops started to run towards the Paladin, climbing the ramp and barrelling past the team without a look at them, oblivious to Dr Collins' words. Sam and the doc hurriedly tried to follow him, but Kestrel was running like the wind and he disappeared inside the plane.

Soon Sam and the doc stopped, listening intently, and they caught some noise from the bathroom. And when they entered the room, Sam saw with dismay his ops kneeling in front of a toilet, retching violently. He heard Briggs coming behind him and asked him:

_ Briggs, please go to his cabin and fetch some clean clothes.

His ops nodded and left, looking concerned.

Sam and Dr Collins waited patiently for Kestrel's stomach to stop heaving, then the ops got up and staggered a little while turning towards them. Sam went next to him and told him kindly:

_ You need a well-earned shower, Kestrel. You did a good work.

_ I killed him, Sam, Kestrel said, his voice hollow. I stabbed him and punched him so many times!

_ You know he deserved it, Sam said, helping him out of his duffel coat then turning around to give him some privacy. And you protected the president Terekhov. You even saved Ieshevskiy.

_ Yes, Kestrel said absent-mindedly as Sam heard him taking off his clothes and stepping into the nearest shower stall. But I'm exhausted.

_ Are you hungry? Sam asked him as the water started running.

_ Starving, the ops said just as Briggs entered the room again, clothes under his arm.

_ You're always starving, mate, Briggs commented, looking better himself.

_ True, but I'd rather be hungry than drunk. Боже мой! _(My God!)_

 ___ What's the matter, agent Kestrel? Dr Collins asked him anxiously.

_ The blood is just staying on my hands! And I can't... Yes, I can. It's disappearing, thank heavens!

Sam felt uneasy, he didn't know what to say. Kestrel didn't sound too upset, but any wrong word could destabilize his mending mind. However Kestrel added calmly but wearily:

_ That son of a bitch bled like a stuck pig, blast him!

Sam felt his eyebrows knit out of concern and shot a look at Dr Collins who looked worried. That wasn't Kestrel's normal behaviour, he never swore like that.

_ Agent Kestrel? Dr Collins asked him again. Are you all right?

_ Хорошо. Очень хорошо. _(Fine. Much fine.)_

Sam grew worried by the minute. If Kestrel wasn't speaking English anymore, it was a very bad sign. He heard his ops stepping out of the shower stall and grab a towel, then put on the clothes Briggs had laid on the sink for him, asking casually:

_ Что мы едим сегодня вечером? _(What are we going to eat tonight?)_

Sam turned to look at him and noticed the wild look in his eyes was still there, and decided to go easy on him. So he racked his brains and said in approximate Russian:

_ Grim has made a beef stew and panna cotta for dessert.

Kestrel half-smiled then nodded and exited the room, saying simply:

_ Я голоден! _(I'm starving!)_


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

When the door closed on Kestrel's back Sam asked the doc immediately:

_ What's happening, doc?

_ He's in shock, Dr Collins said grimly. His mind is on autopilot to give his conscience the necessary time to accept his act. He killed his target with much cruelty, I take it?

_ Yes, Sam said. I'm afraid he avenged twenty years of suffering with this murder, as he said it himself.

_ Then it explains his behaviour and him speaking Russian. Act normal, answer him in Russian if you can, but he shouldn't notice the difference if you switch languages. A good night's sleep should be enough to have him back in his right mind. Just cut him some slack, and should he start behaving oddly, don't point it to him. Let him do it, he'll be evacuating the pressure.

_ Copy, doc, Sam nodded, not altogether reassured.

He and Briggs went to the dining cabin where Grim and Charlie were watching Kestrel wolfing down a large plate of stew with huge amounts of bread, and took seats around the table. Grim shot Sam a quizzical look but he said softly:

_ Shock.

She understood at once and served him and Briggs before pushing the dish in front of Kestrel's already empty plate. The ops helped himself largely and said:

_ Спасибо. Это очень вкусно! _(Thank you. It's delicious!)_

 ___ Это очень любезно, Grim answered politely. _(That's nice of you)_

Samsmiled at her and shot a meaningful look at Charlie who couldn't understand a single word, but stayed silent. They ate in silence and Sam noticed that Kestrel's left hand was twitching on the table next to his plate, but he assumed it was from the state of shock. The ops ate a third plate of stew, emptying the dish, then wolfed down the three cups of panna cotta Grim had made for him before reclining back on his chair, looking full.

Briggs shot his teammate a concerned look before asking:

_ Sam? Will we debrief soon?

_ Tomorrow morning, Sam answered him calmly. In the Winter Palace.

_ Зимний Дворец, Kestrel chimed in unexpectedly, chuckling while repeating the name in Russian.

_ Kestrel?

Sam saw Kestrel's mind was gone, the ops was staring at the small aircraft windows and smiling at thin air, mumbling indistinctly. Then he said, still in Russian:

_ My parents took me out to see the Winter Palace. Huge place, beautiful place. I visited it with Alpha too, she loves museums like that. One day, we'll visit the Smithsonian and the Louvre.

Sam, appalled, watched Kestrel, features relaxed and wild eyes, getting to his feet and followed him, beckoning at Briggs to do the same. The ops headed towards the training room, casually striding in the corridor and humming to himself. Then he entered the room, apparently unaware of the two men following his every movement, and started to pace the room calmly, like he would do for a stroll.

Astonished, Sam and Briggs watched him from the door frame walking twenty times around the room, hands in his pockets and still humming quietly something that sounded suspiciously like "Katyusha". Suddenly Kestrel stopped in his tracks, looked frantically around him and yelled in Russian:

_ Alpha's rifle! I left Alpha's rifle in the church! I must go back and fetch it!

_ Kestrel! Sam said loudly in English as he didn't know all the words in Russian. Don't worry, Briggs brought it back! It's in the cargo hold!

But Kestrel clearly didn't understand him and ran towards him, shouting:

_ Так дорогу, дорогу! _(Make way, make way!)_

_ Kestrel, stop!

Sam glared at him after shouting the command in Russian, and his ops, amazingly, stopped right in front of him. But he had a lost expression on his face, so Sam said seriously, still in Russian:

_ We have the rifle, it's with us. But now you need to sleep.

_ Спать, Kestrel approved numbly.

Sam led him to his cabin, Briggs bringing up the rear, and they watched Kestrel collapse on his bed, not even taking out his boots, and fall asleep nearly instantly. Briggs removed his shoes and Sam put a nearby blanket on him before exiting his cabin. They walked to the kitchen and sat on their chairs, Sam feeling exhausted himself. Charlie asked:

_ He's lost his marbles?

_ No, Briggs shook his head, massaging his temples. He was in shock, that's all. He needs rest.

_ We all do, Sam sighed. Let's call it a good day's work and meet here at 8 am tomorrow morning.

They all nodded and got up. Sam helped Grim clear the table, and they retreated in Sam's cabin where Grim rubbed his aching back, relaxing him so much he drifted into sleep in no time.

* * *

When his OPSAT woke him up, Sam was having a dreamless, restful sleep, and he groaned in frustration. But he forced his eyes open and soon got up, dressing in casual civilian clothes. He stumbled around his cabin, looking for socks, then went to the dining cabin for breakfast, his mind screaming for coffee.

When he entered the room, Grim was already there and poured him a large mug before he had time to say hello. I must look awful, he thought dimly. He drank the boiling coffee and poured himself another one before grabbing a muffin as Charlie sat next to him. Then Briggs came in, closely followed by Kestrel. The two ops said hello, then sat at the table. Sam looked closely at Kestrel and was relieved to see the wild look in his eyes had disappeared.

_ Nice sleep? Sam asked his two ops.

_ Not bad, Briggs said, but too short.

_ As usual, Kestrel smirked, which made Sam sigh with relief. The second love of your life is your pillow, мой друг. _(my friend)_

 ___ Yeah? Briggs asked sardonically. And may I know who's the first, please?

_ Have you changed? Kestrel feigned surprise. I thought it was Molly Anderson?

Briggs blushed furiously, making the team laugh. Sam hadn't thought about Briggs' love romance with the nurse since the chalet in Idaho, but he wasn't surprised that Kestrel knew more about it than him as his two ops were close friends. And he rejoiced at seeing Kestrel back in his right mind and obviously not upset.

Breakfast was quickly eaten, then Kestrel himself brought back the conversation to business.

_ So, what's happening now?

_ We'll go to the Winter Palace and have a debrief with Kossiak and his team there at 10, Sam told him.

Kestrel nodded, frowning, then said:

_ In this case we should leave at 8.45 am. Traffic in the morning is a nightmare in Saint Petersburg.

_ Right, Sam said, checking his OPSAT. That leaves us fifteen minutes to wash our teeth and rent a car. Let's move, people.

They scrambled to their feet and fifteen minutes later met at the base of the ramp where the van was waiting for them. They piled up inside, Kestrel driving, and departed. As the ops had promised, the streets were clogged but thankfully the snow had been pushed away. They parked near the Palace Square and walked to the Winter Palace, and Sam was impressed as always by the beauty and majesty of the building. The stage of Terekhov's meeting had been removed and no sign of the operation was visible.

When they reached the building, Kestrel led them to the eastern entrance and they walked in, gladly taking out their coats and hats. Just inside the door, they saw Poliakov waiting for them. The Voron ops greeted them, shook Kestrel's hand with emotion, then led them through a maze of corridors and stairs until they reached a small simple wooden door. Poliakov knocked twice then opened the door and stepped aside to let the team inside.

Sam was again impressed by the magnificent room, richly decorated with gilding, statues and mirrors. But most of the room was occupied by a massive ebony table, around which the Voron team was sitting, Kossiak at the end. When they entered, the Voron ops rose and inclined their heads briefly as a show of respect. But when Kestrel entered last, just before Poliakov, all the Voron ops started to applaude him. Sam saw the faces were proud but sad, and Kestrel looked stunned. Sam saw the emotion he was trying to hide and clapped him on the shoulder, steering him forward to the table.

Kossiak spoke and his ops fell silent:

_ Please sit down.

Sam took a chair between Kestrel and Grim and soon Poliakov offered him a choice between coffee and the strong black tea from the great samovar behind Kossiak. Sam and the team chose coffee but for once Kestrel had a cup of tea with honey. Then Nikonova passed them a large basket full of bubliki, the small traditional bread cakes. These ones were sweet, but Sam knew they could be salted and were delicious. He saw with delight that Nikonova put a special basket in front of Kestrel and told him in English:

_ All these are for you, Mikhail, special order from Anna Vladimirovna from the tea shop.

Kestrel thanked her with a small smile and ate a bubliki with emotion, sipping the strong tea. Sam looked at Kossiak, inviting him to speak first.

_ Thank you for coming, the Russian said solemnly. First of all, as the new Voron commander, I would like to tell you that, in the name of the president Terekhov, Voron officially thanks Fourth Echelon for its invaluable help. The president is alive and safe, and we have no casualties among our ranks.

The Russians all broke into applause, and Sam inclined his head with a smile. Kossiak went on:

_ And of course, we would like to warmly thank your two outstanding snipers, agent Briggs and agent Kestrel. Ieshevskiy?

Sam turned his gaze upon a tall, black-haired agent who got up and walked to Briggs, shook his hand and said "Thank you" to him, then went right next to Kestrel who got up too. The two men locked eyes, and even though Kestrel hadn't said a thing about the history between them, Sam could feel the tension between the two of them. But Ieshevskiy offered his hand to Kestrel and said:

_ We've had our differences, Kestrel, but you saved my life yesterday. The slate is clean. Thank you.

Kestrel extended his hand and they shook them, then Ieshevskiy pulled him into a warm embrace. Everybody broke into wild applause, even the American team who rejoiced at seeing Kestrel moved. Then the two ops resumed their seat and Kossiak said:

_ That's it for the good news. Now, shall we debrief yesterday's mission?

_ Go on, Sam said with a smile.

_ We count five Voron traitors in custody, nine dead and one missing, Fedorova. Beria, Lebedeva, Diatlova, Muratov and Aliokhin are detained at Voron's headquarters and will be thoroughly interrogated.

_ What happened in Moscow, then? Sam asked his counterpart.

_ Aliokhin and Kablukov tried to kill me, Nikonova said simply. Fortunately Poliakov and Kandinski protected me. They shot Kablukov dead, Aliokhin is wounded but will survive. Then we took a special flight to Saint Petersburg, and here we are.

_ We're happy to see you alive and well, Sam said smiling. And we know about the dead, of course.

_ Yes, Kossiak agreed, but we don't know who killed who.

_ Is it important?

_ For us, it is, Kossiak said grimly. We have tedious red-tape, as you call it, to make, but be assured the knowledge won't leave this room.

_ Okay, Sam nodded. Ask my ops, then.

Stepankova took a pen and read the names on the list in front of her.

_ Dmitriev, we know it's Kestrel. Avilov too.

Sam shot a quick glance at his ops at the mention of his victim, but Kestrel seemed relaxed and at peace with himself. And Kossiak cut her:

_ Sorry, Valentina. Kestrel?

The ops turned towards his old friend, and the Russian said with emotion:

_ I've had proof last night that Avilov indeed killed my brother Ivan. I would like to thank you for having avenged him and got rid of a mad awful tyrant.

Kestrel bowed his head, poker-faced, and had another sip of his tea. Kossiak obviously ached to add something, but he bit his lip and said:

_ Valentina?

_ So, we were saying... who shot Asthakova?

_ Me, said Briggs.

_ Glazkov?

_ Me, said Kestrel.

_ Voronkov?

Kestrel answered again.

_ Pavlov?

_ I got this one, Briggs said.

_ Barychev?

_ Me again, Briggs said.

_ Kraiev?

_ That's me, Kestrel said.

_ Thank you, Stepankova said, putting down her pen.

_ A good mission, Kossiak said. But let's talk about the next one. I have bad news.

_ What bad news? Sam asked, fearing the answer.

_ The Khabarovsk is about to proceed to sea, Kossiak said darkly. It'll leave Vilyushinsk in the next hour.


	53. Chapter 53

**Author's note: Hi readers! Just a little warning for this chapter. This story is rated T and I usually try to keep the violence as soft as possible, but this time, though I didn't write too much gruesome details, I was compelled to explain what Kestrel did to Avilov, so be ready! And thanks for reading! I would gladly welcome some feedback!**

Chapter 53

Kestrel couldn't believe his ears. Would they fail to prevent a war, after all? But Kossiak said seriously:

_ I know about it thanks to a Voron agent of mine who's infiltrated in the Navy. He saw the crew of the Khabarovsk embarking and Gurkovski, the commander, ordering an immediate departure two hours ago.

_ Then his superior must be with Meggido, Sam said grimly.

Kossiak nodded.

_ Admiral Vetotchkin, Stepankova confirmed, the one we were supposed to protect. Fortunately, Vetotchkin disobeyed a direct order of president Terekhov by authorizing the Khabarovsk to leave, so he's been arrested. And the Khabarovsk won't be able to leave Vilyushinsk, the rest of the fleet is on alert and has orders to sink it if necessary in case of departure.

_ So what's happening for us? Sam asked.

_ We wait, Kossiak said. Rear-Admiral Vesselovskiy has ordered the crew to disembark and the officers to surrender without conditions, but so far nothing moved. It can take hours to settle down.

_ But the threat of the Khabarovsk and the Chkval torpedoes is over, Sam insisted.

_ Yes, Kossiak said. What will happen after this incident will be handled by Russia on its own, but I can promise you we'll track down all Meggido members.

_ What about Sarto? Grim asked.

Kossiak checked his phone and said:

_ I'm waiting for news. I sent Ivkin and Kniazev yesterday evening to Novgorod to arrest him, and they caught him without a fight. They were due to arrive here any minute now with him.

_ That's excellent news, Sam said and Kestrel nodded in relief. So we'll take care of Fedorova and her men.

Kossiak nodded.

_ We don't need her back, Sam Fisher. Do whatever you have to do.

Kestrel understood immediately: his friend would rather have her killed than captured, but he knew Sam had a different point of view. Even if they had done a joint mission, Voron was still a great rival for Fourth Echelon, and any intel on them was of vital importance. And, like he thought, Sam said diplomatically:

_ We'll do the job as necessary, you can count on us.

Kestrel could tell his old friend wasn't fooled, but such was the game between enemy agencies. Grim insisted:

_ What will happen to Sarto? He's been sentenced in the USA and knows a lot about Meggido.

Kossiak opened his hands apologetically.

_ You know our respective countries haven't got any extradition agreement. I'm sorry, but since Sarto has been arrested in Russia, he'll stay in Russia. But you can be sure he'll go to prison.

Politics, Kestrel thought angrily.

_ What about the intel he has? Sam asked with a hard tone. You know we could use it against Fedorova.

Kossiak exchanged a meaningful look with Stepankova, then said:

_ We'll record his interrogation and send you the file. Does that suit you?

Sam and Grim looked briefly at each other and Kestrel saw his boss make the tiniest shake of his head, then Grim said:

_ No, I'm afraid that won't do. Maybe we have some questions you don't know about.

Again, Kossiak and Stepankova locked eyes, and Stepankova said at last:

_ What do you suggest?

_ What if I were there during the interrogation? Sam said calmly. A joint interrogation, sort of.

Kossiak thought about it, then said:

_ Why not? But Fedorova...

_ We'll leave in a few hours to neutralize her for good, Sam assured him. But we have sufficient time to ask Sarto some questions first.

_ Very well, Kossiak capitulated. I'm just...

His phone rang, and he picked up the line. He spoke rapidly in Russian, but Kestrel smiled. Sarto had arrived. A few seconds later, Stepankova's phone rang too, and she listened to it intently for a whole minute before hanging up. She murmured something to Kossiak, and he said aloud:

_ Please tell everyone, Valentina.

_ I've just got news from Vilyushinsk, she announced. The crew of the Khabarovsk is disembarking calmly and the officers have surrendered, except Gurkovski who committed suicide. The Navy is securing the Chkval torpedoes.

_ That's good news indeed, Sam smiled.

_ And Sarto is here, Kossiak added. So we'll get started, Sam Fisher.

_ I'm right behind you.

The two men exited the room, and Stepankova said to the Voron ops:

_ Good work, everyone, but it's time to go back to your jobs.

The Russians got to their feet and walked to the door, but before exiting the room each one of them came to shake Kestrel's hand. The American ops was moved, but his heart was torn apart. He fought back his emotion as Remizov embraced him like Ieshevskiy did, saying to him all was forgotten. He embraced Poliakov and Kandinski, thanking them again for having been his sparring partners, and the two of them smiled at him. Then he hugged tightly his old friends Marinov and Jdan, with whom he and Ivan had often teamed up and saved each other's lives. The Russian ops were moved, but they all kept a straight face. Then they said farewell before leaving the Fourth Echelon team with Stepankova and Nikonova.

Kestrel had trouble masking his emotion, so he went to fill his cup with some tea from the samovar, hiding and discreetly wiping away his tears. So when he sat back down, he had regained his usual composure, even if he could tell Stepankova and Grim were not fooled. Charlie then picked up the huge external hard drive he had brought with him and told Nikonova:

_ Voron's database.

Nikonova nearly cried in relief and took the device with trembling hands, while Stepankova said with a wry smile:

_ Thank you. I suppose you've kept a copy in your systems?

_ You know the rules of the game, Valentina Ivanovna, Kestrel answered when he saw that Grim wasn't going to speak.

_ Indeed, she grinned. And about a game...

Kestrel remembered his former supervisory agent was fond of poker, so he wasn't surprised when she suggested playing a game while waiting for Sam and Kossiak's return. The team accepted, and soon the six of them were immersed in the game, concentrating and joking around. Kestrel noticed that Grim was a careful gambler, not revealing anything, that Charlie was a very bad liar who soon lost all his money, and that Briggs was more of a high roller, risking everything at bad times. Nikonova wasn't a good poker player, like Charlie, and was quickly out of the game too. But Stepankova was excellent, and Kestrel had much difficulty reading her expressions.

An hour later, Stepankova finally admitted defeat, and Kestrel pocketed his winnings while she said:

_ Kestrel, you cheater! That poker-face of yours serves you well indeed!

He smirked, and Nikonova asked them:

_ Would you like to have lunch with us?

_ With pleasure, Grim smiled politely.

Stepankova and Nikonova set the table and brought a huge and steaming cooking pot, and Kestrel's nostrils dilated with pleasure.

_ Maria Josefovna's borscht!

Stepankova shot him an admiring look.

_ You have a keen sense of smell, Mikhail, and a good memory. I went to her restaurant this morning and she agreed to sell me some.

_ That woman makes the best borscht in all Saint Petersburg, Kestrel explained calmly to his team. She owns a small decrepit restaurant, but her cooking is outstanding.

_ Well, Kossiak said, entering the room, Sam on his heels. Just in time for lunch, it seems.

_ How did it go? Stepankova asked them.

Kestrel saw Sam make a face, and Kossiak grimaced.

_ Let's eat first. We recorded the interrogation, so each team will be able to analyze it later.

That comment put a damper on the spirits, and they ate in silence. Kestrel, though concerned by Sam's and Kossiak's grim looks, thoroughly enjoyed the borscht and helped himself to four plates. Then Sam rose and said:

_ Thank you for your hospitality. We'll go back to the plane and leave as soon as possible.

The team imitated him, and Kestrel took his basket of bubliki under his arm, feeling sadness filling his chest. He knew he would probably never come back to Russia again, except maybe for hostile missions, and his chances of seeing Kossiak again were slim. Stepankova hugged him and muttered to his ear:

_ Удачи, Мишка! _(Good luck, Michka!)_

Then she quickly pulled away from him and turned away, hastily wiping her eyes. Nikonova shook his hand with a smile, her eyes very bright too. At last, Kossiak went in front of him. Kestrel embraced his old friend, and Igor said in his ear:

_ You avenged Ivan. Thank you so much, Michka. We're not on the same side anymore, but I hope we'll still be friends.

_ Take care, my friend, Kestrel said softly.

Kossiak smiled, then led them back to the entrance of the museum. And when Kestrel walked out of the building, Kossiak said:

_ I still have your phone number. I'll call you from time to time.

Kestrel nodded at him, not wanting to speak as not to show his emotion, then strode towards the car, parked behind the Palace Square. He shot a last glance around him, at the Winter Palace, the Alexander column, the Admiralty, the Saint Isaac Cathedral and the cobblestones, inwardly saying farewell to his city. And when the team reached the van, he climbed behind the wheel with a firm goal in his mind: go back to the Paladin, his real home.

During the trip Sam, seated next to him, didn't unclench his teeth, and Kestrel saw his boss was annoyed. But wisely the team stayed silent and waited to be back in the Paladin's control room. When they gathered around the SMI, Sam held out a USB key to Charlie who inserted it in the console, and the video started, showing a disheveled Sarto bound on a chair, Sam and Kossiak flanking him.

_ Giovanni Sarto, Kossiak said calmly in English. I suppose you know who I am. What did he say about me? he feigned to ask Sam. Ah yes. A brainless puppet.

_ Kossiak, Sarto spat heinously.

_ Your brain cells are in working order, Giovanni, Kossiak approved. Good, good. Me and my friend here have some questions for you.

_ Sam Fisher, Sarto eyed the Splinter Cell with malevolence. You make an ill-assorted pair.

_ Do you hear that, Kossiak? Sam rumbled. As if we didn't work together already when we tore down his pitiful attempt at killing Terekhov yesterday. Tut tut, Giovanni. How wrong you are.

_ I won't help you.

_ Oh! But we don't need your help, Sam said. We know your bitch is in Malta, and we're going to catch her and kill her.

On the screen Sarto paled, and Kestrel noticed with satisfaction he started trembling.

_ No... Please don't kill her!

_ What choice do we have, Giovanni? Kossiak asked him pleasantly. You won't help us, you said so. And I think one of Sam's agents has a score to settle with her.

_ You're right, Sam said. And when he's done with her, well... You probably won't be able to make out her features anymore. You see, he neutralized your puppet yesterday, you know? Avilov.

_ Yes, and that was quite messy, Kossiak added. He stabbed him a hundred and seven times, and smashed his face and head so hard his brains were spilled on the floor, his eyes were out of their sockets, his tongue was cut out, and...

_ Stop! I beg you!

Sarto looked sick, and he swallowed hard. Kestrel dimly registered what horrible things he had done to Avilov, but since he didn't have any memory of it except killing him, he felt at peace. And like Sam and Kossiak had said, the bastard had deserved it.

On the video, Sam shot a disgusted look at Sarto and addressed Kossiak with a sardonic smile:

_ I'm getting old, the villains aren't made of the same tough stuff than in my youth. Shame.

_ Giovanni? Kossiak bent over him. Ready to answer our questions?

_ Yes, the prisoner moaned. Anything! But I'd like something to drink, please. A coffee?

On the screen Sam shot a glance at Kossiak who shrugged, then nodded at the two-way mirror. But watching it, Kestrel remembered a small thing he had read in Sarto's file and dread filled his guts.

_ Ублюдок! _(Bastard!)_ he exclaimed loudly and angrily.

He made Grim, Briggs and Charlie jump, but Sam shot him a dejected look, and Kestrel knew what was going to happen. He watched with fury as Ivkin brought in a cup of coffee and gave it to Sarto. The man drank it and had a last winning smile before starting to shake violently, suffocating. Sam reacted at once and pushed him on the floor, opening his collar, but it was too late. Sarto's breathing stopped after thirty seconds, and Sam's CPR didn't change anything. Then the video stopped on Sam and Kossiak's dismay.

_ Son of a bitch! Kestrel said angrily. He was caffeine-intolerant, I read it in his file!

_ I didn't know that, Sam said grimly. And now, he's dead.

_ On the bright side, Briggs said, he won't be a menace anymore.

_ True, Sam admitted.

But Kestrel could see his boss was affected. So he said calmly:

_ One target more down. We don't need him. Let's fly to Malta and wring Fedorova's neck. Then we can have our holidays.

Sam smiled a little and clapped him on the back.

_ That's an excellent program, Kestrel. Take-off in half an hour.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

The flight from Saint Petersburg to Malta lasted four hours, so by the time the Paladin landed at the Malta International Airport, it was 4.45 pm local time. During the flight, Grim had had a very bad suspicion. Shortly after take-off, she wondered aloud, standing next to the SMI:

_ Why Malta? Why Kobin?

_ What? Sam raised his head from Briggs' screen, who was looking for Fedorova's boat.

_ Why has she chosen Kobin? Grim repeated. There are plenty of arms dealers around the globe, and many in Russia alone. Why him? And why buy assault rifles from an arms dealer in the first place? Doesn't Voron have some spare guns, much easier for her to smuggle out?

_ Voron has countless weapons caches, Kestrel said calmly, rising from his seat where he had been examining Fedorova's file.

_ You see? she turned to face Sam. I fear there's more to all this than we can see.

_ If she isn't really interested in Kobin's rifles... Charlie started.

_ … then it's Kobin himself she wants, Sam finished. But why?

_ He knows an awful lot about Fourth Echelon, Kestrel said darkly. About us.

Grim sensed the ops' anger behing his calm expression, and she knew he had a point. Kobin had been a long time with them and could reveal interesting things to their enemies.

_ But how could she know about Kobin being with us? Sam wondered.

_ Samantha Jukov, Kestrel said. Avilov's wife, the one in the Pentagon. She must have access to sensitive data about us.

Grim suddenly felt angry at herself. She had forgotten all about the Voron spy and had left her a field day.

_ Shit! she swore loudly. I've been careless, and now here's the result!

_ Don't blame yourself, Sam appeased her. You're not alone, we all forgot about her. We've had some more important things to deal with, but we'll track her down after dealing with Fedorova.

_ No, she shook her head. As long as she's free we'll be in danger.

_ How about having her arrested? Briggs suggested. I could call some FBI friends who would secure her till we get back to the States. We have enough evidence for that.

_ That would be great, Sam approved. Grim?

She nodded, and Briggs went to phone his friends straight away. Kestrel said, eyebrows knitted:

_ Fedorova's appointment with Kobin was due to happen today. What if we're already too late? That wimp won't stand the tortures, she's quite experienced.

_ We'll contact him, Sam said. Secrecy doesn't matter anymore, she knows he's linked to us. Charlie, make the call, please.

Charlie bent on his computer, and three seconds later they all could hear the ringings through the SMI's intercom. After three, the line was picked up.

_ Yes?

Grim exhaled in relief. She would never have thought that hearing Kobin's irritating voice could reassure her.

_ Kobin, it's Sam.

_ Shit. You know what, Fisher? You can go fuck off! I have an appointment at six, and...

_ I know, with Fedorova, Sam cut him abruptly. But she's not interested in your rifles, Andriy. She wants you.

_ What?

Grim heard fear in Kobin's voice, and she wondered why they even bothered protecting the creep.

_ She knows about you among Fourth Echelon, Sam told him seriously. Maybe she really wants the rifles, but you're going to be interrogated, Andriy.

_ And you're telling me this with that calm tone! Kobin shouted angrily and worriedly. What are you doing, then? Come and help me! Protect me from her!

_ We're coming, Kobin, Kestrel announced him with a smirk. Don't worry, we'll take care of you.

_ Coming from you that doesn't reassure me at all, Kestrel! Kobin spat. How would I know it's not a trap for you to kill me?

_ Because if I were coming to kill you I'd be much more straightforward, Kestrel said seriously. I don't need a diversion to murder your miserable self. But if you insist, I can oblige.

_ No! No! Joking, man!

Kobin's panicky voice brought a smile on the team's lips, but Grim soon concentrated.

_ So what do I do? he asked frantically. Do I cancel? Postpone?

_ No, Sam said. We'll be there at 6 pm. Tell your men to let us pass, make them wear some distinctive sign for us not to neutralize them.

_ Okay, Kobin said, sounding reassured. They'll have a red bandana on them. You're sure you'll be there on time?

_ Yes, Andriy, Sam sighed. How many men will she have with her?

_ Ten, to carry the crates. And four bodyguards.

_ Right, Sam said. See you later, Kobin.

_ Don't let me down, Fisher!

Kobin hung up, and Grim looked at Sam's determined expression.

_ We have a mission to set up, he announced. Grim and Kestrel, the plans of the building and route. Charlie, the security system. Briggs and me will find her boat and its weaknesses, see if we can sink it.

His team nodded and set to work, so by the time the plane landed, Grim felt satisfied as the mission was planned and ready. Briggs and Kestrel equipped themselves with their tac suits underneath civilian clothes and their weapons and grenades. Kestrel took additional mines to blow up the cargo boat before going to Kobin's museum, and soon the two ops left for the harbour.

Grim followed them with the satellite Charlie was "borrowing", and at 5.07 pm Briggs parked in the freight zone.

_ The boat name's Saboga Estrella, Panamanian flag, she said through the intercom to the ops. It's moored alongside the furthest northern quay, and from what we can see all the soldiers are in the lower decks except eight people on the main deck.

_ Copy, Briggs' voice resonated.

_ It would be better to approach it by stealth and fix the mines on the external hull, Sam said, near the fuel tanks. Charlie?

_ Sending the blueprints on your OPSAT, the tech announced. You'll have to dive, I'm afraid.

_ You're kidding, Briggs grumbled. It's January, the water will be freezing cold!

_ I'll do it, мой друг. _(my friend)_

 ___ Kestrel...

_ When I was in Russia I used to swim in the Gulf of Finland every morning, Kestrel said calmly. The Mediterranean will be like a jacuzzi for me.

_ As you wish, Mr Freeze.

Grim smiled. These two made a good team, and hearing them squabbling gently like that even during a serious mission was heart-warming. Ten minutes later Kestrel's murmur rose:

_ Right. Diving now.

_ Careful, Kestrel, Sam warned. Beware a thermal shock.

_ Roger that. Briggs will cover me.

Grim exchanged a look with Sam, who was looking relaxed but preoccupied. That was one hard aspect of the work: during the operation, she and Sam were often blind and had to wait for the ops to finish to have news, and it was quite frustrating and required a lot of patience and self-control. But she was used to it, and Sam, although it had taken time, was too now.

Finally they heard Briggs say ten minutes later:

_ The mines are on the hull. Waiting for Kestrel, then we'll go to the museum.

_ You have thirty minutes, Sam said. Fortunately it's not too far, but maybe Fedorova's men will be on the lookout.

_ We'll make it discreet.

_ Out of the water, Kestrel said calmly. Let's go.

_ Wow, Briggs said sarcastically. He's not turned into a popsicle. Ouch!

_ Concentrate, мой друг.

_ Okay, okay.

Grim shook her head, grinning. She knew Briggs was sometimes joking around to evacuate the stress and Kestrel was much more focused on the job, but they always did a good work. She said:

_ Charlie, focus on Kobin's museum, please.

The tech reoriented the satellite view, and soon they saw the old citadel overlooking the sea. Grim pursed her lips. The satellite signal couldn't pass through the thick walls. They wouldn't have any images to help the ops.

_ Do you have the plan?

_ Yes, Charlie acknoweledged, but I don't know if it's been updated recently. And it only shows the rooms, stairs and corridors, not where Kobin will be.

_ Camera's images?

_ Still hacking them, Charlie said. The guy who secured them was good, I need a little more time.

_ They'll manage, Sam said. Send the plan to their OPSAT. In such circumstances, you just follow the guards. Never fails.

Grim looked carefully at him, but he didn't seem upset. He had been to Kobin's museum years ago, she had set a trap for him there, but he didn't seem to hold a grudge. She took his hand, silently asking for forgiveness again, and, locking eyes with her, he raised it slowly and kissed it. He truly had forgiven her. She smiled a little, and he smiled back, his green eyes twinkling.

Briggs' voice made her jump a little, lost as she was in Sam's intense stare.

_ We're there. Lots of activity around.

_ What do you mean? Sam asked, letting go of her hand and turning back to the satellite view.

_ Kobin's lucky to have high and thick walls, Kestrel said grimly.

_ Could you two be more specific?

_ It's a warzone, Sam, Briggs said. The racket is still unnoticed from the outside, but I can tell you it won't last. There are dead men everywhere. We're in the courtyard, and we can hear machine guns and shouts.

_ Shit, Sam said.

Grim looked at him, and she saw Charlie do the same. She knew he was hesitating to send his ops in such a mess without info, but Kobin's life was at stake. And that was the tough call. Had Kobin earned a saving from Fourth Echelon? Finally he drew a deep breath and said:

_ Briggs, Kestrel, scout around the fights. Find Kobin and protect him. He must not speak to Fedorova. And capture her, bring her back here.

_ Copy, Briggs said.

Grim noticed that Kestrel remained silent, she knew he disapproved. But on the screen showing the satellite view she saw him advancing with Briggs to the back of the citadel, obeying the order nevertheless.

Waiting was almost unbearable, for ten long minutes the ops stayed silent, and the museum's view showed no movement. But Grim hated being in the dark.

_ Charlie? Any luck with the security cameras?

_ Almost there, the tech in front of his computer, typing frantically on his keyboard. Yes!

He sent the images on the SMI, and they saw the ten cameras of the museum. The three of them studied them carefully, and Sam murmured:

_ Well done, Charlie.

Grim caught movement in the camera showing some library, and soon Kobin appeared in the camera range, hands bound and forced to kneel down. Then Fedorova appeared behind him, pointing a gun at his head. She raised her head, smiled a little and pointed her gun at the screen instead. Then the image went blank.

_ Where is this library? Sam asked grimly.

_ Top floor, western corner, Charlie answered.

_ Briggs? Kestrel?

_ Here, Sam, Briggs murmured.

_ Fedorova's detaining Kobin in a library on the western corner of the upper floor. She shot a camera.

_ We're not far. Heading there.

Grim saw them advancing stealthily in front of a camera in a corridor, weapons at the ready, and soon disappeared.

_ Are there other cameras on their path? she asked Charlie.

_ One, he answered. The lounge just before the library.

_ Select it, Sam said.

Soon the camera's images filled up the whole screen, and they saw two man with FAMAS rifles guarding access to the library behind.

_ Two guards, Sam told his ops. Positions on your OPSAT.

_ Copy, Briggs murmured.

Grim noticed that Kestrel had been silent for a long time, and she asked:

_ Kestrel?

_ Тихо! _(Be quiet!)_

She shot a worried look at Sam, and he spat angrily:

_ Kestrel! We want to check on you! Answer us!

But on the screen, the guards turned abruptly towards the left corridor and opened fire. And Briggs' angry voice filled the intercom.

_ Goddamn it, Sam! You startled him! He made a movement and the guards are shooting him!


	55. Chapter 55

**Author's note: This chapter is particularly important for me since I can develop a crucial aspect in Kestrel's life at last: Archer's death, which happened in Splinter Cell Conviction. Hope you enjoy it, and please write a review! **

Chapter 55

Kestrel didn't like being shot at, and he felt fury rising in him. As he retreated down the corridor to take cover, he swore through his implants, not caring how his boss would take it:

_ Чёрт! Shut up, for heaven's sake!

Then he turned in a large room and ran to the window, wanting to disappear through it and re-enter the lounge through the small ledge on the wall then another window. But before he could jump a guard had walked in and shot him. He felt pain in his right leg but ignored it, clenching his teeth, and dived behind a sofa. Then he scrambled around and rose just in time to shoot the guard in the back of his head. The man crumpled, and Kestrel made it to the window. He suspended himself at the ledge and slowly advanced towards the lounge, still ignoring the throbbing pain.

_ Kestrel? Briggs whispered. Got one. I'm at the door of the lounge. Fedorova's taking cover behind Kobin.

Kestrel looked more carefully at the ledge he was holding to. It didn't stop at the lounge but ran along the whole corner, and he could see a window that was in the library.

_ Distract her, he said, trying to hide his pain. I'll get her from behind.

_ You're wounded?

_ Yes.

Briggs stayed silent, and wisely Sam too. Kestrel knew they were going to worry about him, but he couldn't help it. And they had a job to finish. So he moved on, trying to use his injured leg as little as possible, and reached the window. He peered carefully through it and saw Fedorova's back to him, holding Kobin in front of her and her pistol against his right temple. He silently opened the window and heard her shout:

_ I'll never surrender! You'll have to kill him to get me!

_ Nataliya, Briggs was saying, we won't kill you. Let Kobin go, we'll discuss...

_ No discussing!

Kestrel hoisted himself through the open window and landed discreetly behind an armchair. Then he skirted around it, cursing his aching wound, and crouched. Fedorova was still yelling, focused on Briggs, and Kestrel thought quickly about his options. If he shot her, she would probably pull the trigger out of a reflex and kill Kobin. Same if he hit her with a shocker bolt. One solution left, he told himself firmly.

He advanced for about two meters, now only three meters away from her, and took careful aim, then shot. His bullet hit the exact spot he had been targeting: Fedorova's hand. She screamed and dropped the gun, while he rose and threw himself upon her. He tackled her and pinned her to the ground, then sent the cross of his Beretta on her temple, knocking her out for good.

Then he looked around him and saw Briggs checking on a trembling Kobin, but the scoundrel looked fine. He heard Briggs say:

_ Kobin is safe. And Fedorova's alive, knocked out.

Then he tried to rise, but this time his leg didn't respond. He glanced at it and saw a stream of blood oozing from it. He noticed the red streak he had left in his wake, and his head started to spin, his vision was blurring fast. In his ear, Sam's worried voice said:

_ Kestrel? Are you all right?

_ Shit! Briggs said. We'll need the doc, Sam! Kestrel's been shot in the leg!

Kestrel saw his blurred silhouette running next to him and press a cloth on his leg. He murmured:

_ Why is it always me who ends up in the infirmary?

_ Because you love being there, Briggs said through clenched teeth while strapping the cloth to his leg.

Kestrel saw Kobin approach him cautiously and offer:

_ I have a van in the backyard. If you want to go back to the Paladin, I can drive you there.

_ Good, Briggs said. Help me carry him.

_ What? But...

In a daze, Kestrel saw Briggs grabbing Kobin's collar and pulling him towards him.

_ Listen to me, Andriy. We've just saved your sorry skin, so you're going to help me! We'll put him and Fedorova in your van, and you'll drive us if you don't want me to shoot you in the guts. Understood?

Kobin nodded fearfully, and Kestrel felt their grip under his shoulders. He helped them as much as he could, walking on one foot, but his head was spinning faster and faster. Fortunately Kobin had an elevator, so the trip to his van was a short one. Briggs and he laid down Kestrel in the back of the van and hurriedly went back inside to fetch Fedorova. Kestrel lay back on the seat and called out weakly through his implants:

_ Sam?

_ I'm here, Kestrel.

His boss' voice was constricted with dread and guilt, so he decided to lighten things a little.

_ Could you book the infirmary's bunk for me, please? Two days will do.

_ Kestrel, I... I'm sorry.

The ops felt his consciousness wander off, but before he sank into the void he murmured to his anxious boss:

_ Don't be. I'll have fish and chips when I awake.

* * *

And when Kestrel awoke, he was where he thought he would be: in the Paladin's infirmary. But he hadn't planned to awake in the middle of the surgery Dr Collins was giving him.

_ Doc? he asked, puzzled.

Dr Collins jumped, fortunately the scalpel he was holding hadn't been next to his leg.

_ Jeez! Agent Kestrel! How can you be awake? You had anesthesia!

Kestrel shrugged, glad not to feel any pain in his open leg. The wound and blood didn't bother him, and it was all the better since the view was not pretty.

_ What is it with my leg?

Dr Collins shot him an incredulous look, and Kestrel understood. It had to be weird for a doctor to have a patient supposed to be asleep suddenly waking up and asking questions. But the doc answered him, regaining composure:

_ The bullet has lodged itself between the shinbone and the fibula. I removed it, but your shinbone is a little cracked. I was going to see what I could do about it.

_ Okay, he said simply. So I assume I'll have another shot of whatever it is you've injected me.

_ Yes, the doc said, gesturing at a nurse near the door.

Kestrel recognized Molly Anderson when she went next to him and smiled at her. She returned his smile and said softly, while injecting some liquid in his IV:

_ Have some rest, agent Kestrel.

And as Kestrel's eyes began to droop and his vision blurred again, he heard Dr Collins' voice:

_ Yes, and please wait till I'm finished to wake up again!

* * *

The next time Kestrel awoke, he was on the bed in his cabin, and it was pitch dark. His leg hurt, but it wasn't bothersome. His head was still spinning a little, he assumed it was from the double anesthesia. He looked at his OPSAT and read 2.58 am. Too early, he told himself, rest while you can, Kestrel. So he carefully turned on his right side and soon fell asleep again.

A delicious smell of coffee woke him up, and he saw light from outside the plane. He sat up and watched the time: 7.14 am.

_ That's better, he said aloud, feeling perfectly rested.

Without thinking about it he got up and started to put on his clothes. It was when he leaned on his right leg to put on his fatigues that he remembered his injury. But his leg didn't hurt at all, and no blood appeared through the bandages, so he shrugged and finished dressing. And he chuckled when he saw the crutches next to his nightstand, but went past them and exited the room.

When he entered the dining cabin, he saw Sam choke in his mug of coffee, spluttering:

_ Kestrel? How can you be up?

_ Good morning too, Kestrel said calmly and taking a seat next to Briggs.

Briggs raised his eyebrows and said warily:

_ How's your leg?

_ Feels fine, Kestrel shrugged, grabbing his basket of bubliki. Want some?

_ No thanks.

Around the table Grim and Charlie were looking thunderstruck, but no one was more flabbergasted than Sam. While eating his bubliki with large gulps of coffee, Kestrel watched him open and close his mouth several times, like a fish out of water. Then his boss managed to say:

_ You have healed overnight?

_ I suppose so, Kestrel said between mouthfuls. I'm no doctor.

_ Remember Alpha, Briggs said. She had been hurt in the leg too, but the next day she could run ten kilometers. Maybe you have the same ability.

_ I won't complain, Kestrel said. Less time in my bed.

He finished his Russian breads, and soon the team stopped shooting him puzzled looks. He knew he was a freak with his astonishing physical abilities, but in that case his oddity was serving him well. He glanced at Sam, and the Splinter Cell looked better, but still guilty. So Kestrel said lightly:

_ Sam? Will I have fish and chips for lunch, as promised?

His boss shot him a grateful look and nodded, features relaxing at last:

_ Yes, Kestrel. I'll be the chef.

He smiled and saw relief on Sam's face. After all, it hadn't been fatal, and Kobin was safe.

_ I assume Kobin went back to his citadel?

_ Yes, Sam confirmed. Luckily the fight stayed unnoticed, he was able to clean up the mess without the police raiding the museum.

_ What about Fedorova?

_ Not a word since her capture, Briggs answered grimly.

_ Have you told her about Sarto?

_ Not yet, Sam said. We'll use this as a means of pressure when interrogating her.

_ When that will be?

_ As soon as we go back to the US, Grim said. We'll take off in a few hours.

Kestrel saw all eyes on him, and he felt grateful. He asked, his voice trembling slightly:

_ The cemetary?

_ As soon as you came back yesterday, Grim explained calmly, I phoned our ambassador here. He roused the Maltese administration, and during the night they ran urgent DNA tests. Kobin didn't lie to you, Kestrel. Archer's ashes are indeed in Valetta's cemetary.

He hung his head, breathing deeply. He felt crushing guilt in his guts, but also relief at knowing his partner's body hadn't be tossed away like waste.

_ What's going to happen now? he asked with a muffled voice.

_ We're waiting for Malta's clearance to take the funerary urn with us, she said softly. And when we arrive, we'll escort it to Archer's parents' place.

Kestrel put his face in his hands, shaking uncontrollably. How would he be able to face the parents of the man he had killed to defend himself? All around him he heard chairs scraping backward and people exiting the room, then he felt a hand on his shoulder and Sam said while sitting on Briggs' chair:

_ It wasn't your fault, Kestrel, you know it. It was him or you. Fate or skill made that it's you who survived, but you don't have to feel guilty about it.

_ But his parents, Sam! Kestrel exhaled, tears falling down his cheeks as he looked at his boss' grim face. His parents! I killed him, for heaven's sake! Even if I had good reasons, I still killed him!

Sam stared at him, seriousness on his face. He said calmly:

_ All the people you and me have ever killed had parents. It's always horrible for parents to learn that their child is dead. That I know first-hand. But sometimes we must kill for a greater cause, one that is above us, above everything. And in these cases, we must forget about the grief and pain we inflict upon loving families. And Archer was ordered to kill you. He was American, you were Russian. Two opposite countries with different interests. When you killed him, you defended yourself, granted, but also Russia's interests.

_ True, Kestrel admitted, wiping his eyes and cheeks.

_ What you didn't expect was Voron's betrayal after that, Sam said. But it's behind you, Kestrel. You're American now, and what you did while being Russian was in another life.

Kestrel thought about Sam's words, and he realized they were true. He had to move on. But seeing Archer's parents...

_ I won't be able to face them, Sam, he said guiltily.

_ You will, Sam said kindly. You'll have the courage to face them, Kestrel, because one thing I know for sure about you is that you're not a coward.

Kestrel locked eyes with the old Splinter Cell, and he saw he was not lying or saying empty words. He meant what he had said. So Kestrel nodded and inhaled deeply.

_ Come, Sam said at last. We'll wait in the control room.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Kestrel followed Sam to the control room and took a seat. The team was concentrating on Briggs who was talking to his phone, a faint smile on his lips. He soon hung up and said solemnly:

_ Lady and gentlemen, I have the great pleasure to announce that Samantha Jukov has been arrested in the Pentagon an hour ago. She didn't resist and is currently in Langley for interrogation.

_ Excellent, Sam commented with a smile. Our list of enemies shortens.

_ Who's left? asked Charlie curiously.

_ Juan Esteban, Briggs answered. And Fedorova's men on the cargo boat.

Kestrel knitted his eyebrows. The boat hadn't been blown up yet? Grim caught his expression and said seriously:

_ We're waiting for it to leave the harbour. It's moored awfully close to a tanker, but it's moving.

_ We'll press the button in a few minutes, Charlie confirmed.

Kestrel nodded and said:

_ What do we do with Esteban then? Where is he? In Mexico?

_ No, Sam said. Charlie is tracking him with Fedorova's last email.

_ And I think I can say... Bingo!

Charlie looked excitedly at his computer then sent his data on the SMI. Briggs shot a look at the screen and said, disbelief etched on his face:

_ No way we can be so lucky! I don't believe it!

Kestrel saw a tiny dot flashing on the world map and said incredulously:

_ Malta? He's here?

_ Yes, Charlie bounced happily, aboard the cargo boat!

_ That's even better, Sam said, grinning. We'll kill two birds with one stone. How much time until...

_ In about ten minutes, Sam, Grim cut him.

Her smartphone rang at that moment, and she swiftly picked up the line.

_ Yes?

She listened intently for a minute or so, then said:

_ I will. Thank you very much, Mister Ambassador.

She hung up and turned towards the team, looking expectantly at her. Kestrel held his breath, anxiety twisting his guts. At last Grim said:

_ It's okay. We can bring back Archer to the States.

Kestrel exhaled deeply, unclenching his fists he couldn't remember to have clenched. Sam nodded at him and Briggs gently clapped his back. Kestrel asked:

_ When will we...

_ A military force is escorting the urn to the Paladin, Grim said. Malta makes it official they honor a fallen American agent. They'll be there in half an hour.

_ If it's an official escort, Sam said, then we must be at our advantage and honor Archer's memory. Put on your uniform, everyone.

Kestrel came back to his cabin and changed into his dark blue Fourth Echelon uniform. And when his eyes fell upon the American flag on his left sleeve, he felt pride but also guilt. Archer had died following his country's orders, and now his murderer was American too. How would have Archer reacted to that?

Kestrel felt surprised imagining Archer's reaction. He clearly pictured him aboard the Antonov, beer in hand, casual clothes on, and toasting him:

_ To your good health, chief! Welcome aboard!

He shook his head, wondering if he was in his right mind, and finished dressing. Then he checked his beard and eyes and, feeling quite satisfied, went back to the control room. Briggs was already there, looking great in his uniform, and said:

_ Are you okay, mate?

_ Yes, thanks, Kestrel nodded.

He was the first surprised to tell the truth, but Sam's words had comforted him, as always. He asked Briggs:

_ Do you know Archer's name?

Briggs shook his head and went to his computer.

_ Let's see.

He searched for a minute, while Sam, Grim and Charlie joined them, and said:

_ Here it is.

He opened the file on the SMI, and read:

_ Daniel Robert Sloane-Suarez. His parents live in Miami.

_ Then to Miami we'll go, Sam said. I'll phone them while in flight. About the cargo boat?

_ On it, Sam, Grim said.

She prepared the command sequences for the mines and Charlie borrowed another satellite to focus on the cargo boat. On the screen, Kestrel saw that it was far enough from Valetta's harbour and smiled. This mission would end very soon.

_ Ready when you are, Sam.

Grim stepped aside and the Splinter Cell walked right in front of the SMI, eyes on the satellite images. Then he touched the console, and a second later Kestrel saw the cargo boat explode, blown up by the two mines he had placed on its hull. The boat snapped in two pieces and sank like a stone in a few minutes. The satellite images showed no survivors.

_ Right, Sam said. Only one matter left.

Fedorova, Kestrel thought. He looked at Sam, and his boss locked eyes with him.

_ The choice will be yours, Kestrel. She'll be yours to interrogate during the flight, or I'll take care of her, whatever you want.

The ops nodded, still hesitating. He had to think about it. But a great part of his mind wanted to deal personally with her, as she was responsible for a lot of his suffering, first in Voron's clutches than by blowing up Alpha's coffin.

At that thought his heart sank. He was happy to bring back Archer's ashes to the US, but Alpha's ones were out of his reach, in a Russian submarine at the bottom of Vilyuchinsk harbour. It wasn't fair.

_ They're there, Charlie said, looking through one of the windows.

The team hastily got out of the plane, lining up at the foot of the ramp. A grey van was slowly approaching, followed by two black trucks. The three vehicles parked twenty meters away from them, and ten soldiers Kestrel recognized as special forces' soldiers from Malta's First Regiment hopped out of the trucks. They made a guard of honour, holding their rifles, as two people emerged from the van. One opened the van's back doors and picked up a small black urn, then the two of them walked right to the team. As the men passed in front of the guard, the soldiers saluted solemnly, presenting arms.

When the men reached the team, Sam stepped forward and said formally:

_ In the name of the United States of America, we thank Malta for having hosted the remains of a fellow countryman, a fallen agent we are honouring today and are happy to bring back home.

The man holding the urn bowed his head and replied softly in accented English:

_ Malta is glad to honour the memory of a brave agent and return his remains to his fellow countrymen. May he rest in peace in his country of birth, near his next of kin.

He held out the urn, and Sam took it. Then he shook hands with the two men, and they turned towards the soldiers. The officer ordered something in Maltese, and his men raised their guns, firing a gun salute. Then the soldiers saluted Fourth Echelon and escorted the two men to their van before climbing up in their trucks. Kestrel watched the vehicles disappear at the end of the tarmac, then turned towards Sam. His boss seemed lost in his thoughts, but when he noticed Kestrel's stare he said:

_ Now we'll bring him back home.

During the flight to Miami Kestrel decided to deal with Fedorova, but he asked Sam to come with him. He refused any recording however, knowing that his prey knew an awful lot about him and not wanting to trust any digital file with intel on his past. So he went to the detention block, his mind focused on his thirst for revenge, a toolbox in his hand. He knew it would be difficult for him to hurt a woman, but Fedorova was so mean and evil he had trouble thinking about her as a human being in the first place.

When he entered the detention block, Sam behind him, he heard her spit in Russian:

_ Finally you come to see me, Mikhail. I wondered if you would have the guts.

He looked at her, sitting on her bunk like it was a tourist bench, hands cuffed and a bruise on her right temple, but otherwise looking fine. He thought that he could have found her pretty if not for her malevolent deep blue eyes and her sneer. He felt surprisingly calm, and, laying down his toolbox, he opened her cell, on his guard. And sure enough she attacked, but he was expecting it. So he sidestepped her kick and thrust his elbow in her nose, breaking it.

She doubled over, moaning, and he kicked her in her chest, making her fall on the floor. She spat out blood and wiped her nose, but the blood kept pouring from it. She said thickly and scornfully:

_ I suppose you don't want to lay hands on me, Loskov. That's why you're using your elbow and feet. You've always been afraid of women. I was bewildered when I learned that you dated your bitch. I was happy to blow up her coffin.

Kestrel's vision tunnelled and went red. He ignored Sam's orders behind him and punched Fedorova as hard as he could, but wisely he targeted non-vital spots, only making her scream in pain. He didn't even give her the luxury to faint and slapped her each time she was about to lose consciousness. His mind was set on one goal: make her suffer, softening her up. He knew that if he could reach her breaking point, she would talk to them without a doubt.

Sam obviously had seen his strategy and was watching from near the door, letting his ops do the work. Kestrel knew his boss trusted him, so he had to master his strength. He punched her again and again, slapped her so much her cheeks were raw, until finally he saw the light fade in her eyes and she moaned:

_ Please stop. I'll do anything. Please stop.

He straightened and grabbed her roughly, making her cry in pain. Then he dragged her to her bunk and threw her on it, and she groaned, weeping pitifully. Then he beckoned at Sam to come closer and asked in English:

_ Why did you work with Sarto?

_ Because I am in love with him, she murmured through her tears and the blood still trickling from her nose and eyebrows. We've been a couple for eight years.

_ Why start a war between America and Russia?

_ To bring to power Sarto's men. Thomas MacDonnell in the USA and Boris Kedrov in Russia. They don't belong to Meggido, but they would have fulfilled Sarto's goals to gain power.

_ How did you learn about the microchips?

_ Timochenko had left a forgotten file in his office at Voron's headquarters. Inside was a hint that the microchips contained essential plans. Sarto knew it was the war scheme, but we made Avilov believe that it was Timochenko's experiments results to ensure his cooperation.

_ Who's still inside Meggido?

_ Sarto, me, Juan Esteban, she murmured. All the others are dead or in jail. We were the last ones.

_ Then _you_ are the last one, Kestrel said with a cruel smirk.

He couldn't help rejoicing at her dismay, and the tears she shed were such a sweet vengeance he felt appeased. His mind was at peace with itself, and Alpha would have approved. So he looked at Sam and nodded. His boss nodded too and retreated to the door of the detention block. Kestrel locked the cell and grabbed the toolbox, then followed him. Nothing more needed to be said.

Kestrel went to Charlie's workshop and lay down the toolbox, and after that headed for the bathroom then his cabin to wash and put on fresh clean clothes as the ones he had on were splattered with blood. Then he came back to the control room. Sam was waiting for Grim's info on Archer's parents, and when she displayed their phone number, Sam grabbed his smartphone grimly and dialed it. Kestrel took a seat in a corner and listened to Sam's words.

_ Good evening, Mr Sloane-Suarez. I'm Sam Fisher. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have news about your son, Daniel. … Yes, I'm sorry. … He died during an operation five years ago, but we didn't know his status. We've just found his remains. … In Malta. … Yes, we're heading to Miami. We should arrive tomorrow afternoon. … Don't go to any trouble, we'll come to your home, if that suits you. … Fine. Again, I offer you and your wife our condolences.

Sam hung up and stared at nothing, lost in his thoughts. Kestrel knew that announcing the death of a close relative to the family was especially hard, he had done it twice while with Voron. But he knew that after five years of worry, Archer's parents would be able to grieve at last, and move on.

He stood up and went to his cabin, putting back on the chain with the ring and the medal. He stared at Alpha's photo on the wall, and her smile calmed him down. Sam was right, his Russian past was in another life. The only things he would keep from that period would be his native language, his cooking and his memories. And speaking of cooking...

_ Alpha, Archer, I'm sorry you're not around to eat what I'm going to cook, he murmured softly, but maybe the smell will reach you where you are.

Smiling slightly he went to the kitchen and prepared his comfort food, a traditional borscht. And when Briggs poked his head through the door he exclaimed:

_ Is it ready? You're driving everyone crazy with that succulent smell!

_ Such was my intention, мой друг. _(my friend)_

He smiled at Briggs' startled expression, and when his teammate left to fetch the others he clearly pictured Alpha's and Archer's smile in his mind.


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's note: Hope you will enjoy this chapter! I've finished writing this story, so I won't draw out the suspense. The three last chapters will be published simultaneously, and as usual enjoy reading! And please write a little review! **

Chapter 57

The flight lasted eleven hours, but with the jetlag they landed at Miami at 1 pm local time. Archer's parents lived in Little Havana, very close to the international airport, so the trip to their small house was a short one. Behind the wheel of the rented van, Briggs was concentrating on the driving, jaws clenched. Next to him, Sam was carrying the funerary urn with a sad expression on his face. And in the backseat, Grim and Kestrel were watching absent-mindedly the streets outside. Charlie hadn't wanted to come.

Kestrel's mind was swirling with questions, and he felt nausea rising in his throat. Would he be able to get out of the car? Would he be able to face Archer's parents without breaking down? Much too soon Briggs parked in front of a neat house with a microscopic but well-kept garden, and the team climbed down. Kestrel fought his urge to run away and slapped himself virtually. He had to do this. Archer had earned it.

Sam went right in front of him and without a word held out the urn. Kestrel stared at it for long seconds, hesitating, wanting to take it and shove it away at the same time. But he inhaled deeply and took the remains of his partner with reverence and respect, and he murmured:

_ Извините меня, мой друг. _(Forgive me, my friend)_.

Sam obviously heard him and squeezed his shoulder, then led the team to the porch. The front door opened before he had time to knock and a disheveled man stepped out in front of him. Kestrel, walking right behind Sam, saw immediately that he was facing Archer's father, as they shared their eyes and chin. But the balding man was on the verge of tears, with trembling lips and bloodshot eyes, and Kestrel's heart wrenched in guilt again. Sam asked gently:

_ Mr Sloane-Suarez, may we enter?

_ Yes... Yes, of course.

The poor man led them to a small living room where three people, who were sitting on a low couch, rose abruptly. As soon as Kestrel stepped in with the urn, they broke into tears. An elderly woman put an arm around a woman Kestrel identified as Archer's mother, as her late son had inherited her features. Next to her, a young man looked a lot like his partner, maybe Archer's brother. His father went to hug him, and the devastated family wept for a few minutes, staring at the black urn in Kestrel's hands.

The Fourth Echelon team stood in awkward silence in front of them, waiting for the grieveing family to calm down a little. Finally Archer's father wiped out his tears and said with a trembling voice:

_ Are you absolutely sure this urn contains the ashes of my son?

Sam said kindly:

_ DNA tests have been made, Mr Sloane-Suarez. I'm sorry.

Kestrel stepped forward and held out the black urn. The poor man took it and dissolved into tears again. His wife went next to him, and they stared at the small urn containing the remains of their son with pain and sorrow.

After a few minutes, Archer's mother asked Sam:

_ How did it happen? Who killed him?

_ Mrs Sloane-Suarez, Sam began gently, your son died in the line of duty during a special operation. I'm sorry, but the circumstances of his death are classified.

_ But why kill him? she cried. Why?

Next to Sam, Kestrel was on the verge of tears too, but he forced down his emotion. Never before had the death of a fallen comrade been so hard to accept. He ached to explain to the devastated family what had happened, but Sam had told him he couldn't. The Mozdok mission had to remain secret. He wanted to ask for forgiveness, apologize over and over for their loss, but kept silent.

However, the young man was staring intently at him, and said suddenly:

_ You know what happened, don't you?

Kestrel locked eyes with him, and nodded. He couldn't lie to the anguished younger brother of his partner. Sam shot him a warning look but the ops closed his eyes briefly. He knew he couldn't say much, but these suffering people had the right to know how Daniel Robert Sloane-Suarez died. Sam inclined his head shortly, indicating that he trusted his ops, and stepped back. Kestrel faced the family who was looking expectantly at him and waited patiently for the next questions.

_ Were you there? the father asked, still crying.

_ Yes, Kestrel nodded, guilt twisting his guts but keeping a straight face.

_ How did he die? Did he suffer?

_ He was shot, Kestrel said with a muffled voice. But he didn't suffer.

_ Did you see his murderer? Archer's brother asked with pain and anger. Is he dead?

Kestrel's throat constricted with guilt and pain, but he managed to say with a rather calm voice:

_ Be assured that he paid a very high price for what he did.

He felt Sam's stare on his left side, but he couldn't say more. And what he had told Archer's family was perfectly true: the price had been so high for him to pay, with Voron's treason, the tortures, experiments and the excruciating pain that had followed that he would rather have died along with Archer. And the guilt was torturing him so often and at so high an amount it was a very efficient punishment for his act.

Archer's brother looked satisfied by Kestrel's answer, and Sam said calmly:

_ We'll leave you now.

The team headed towards the door, but as Kestrel turned round a hand caught his arm. He turned to see Archer's mother, locking eyes with him:

_ Has my son said anything before he died?

Kestrel knew he couldn't tell her the truth as Archer's last words had been for him, so for the third time in his life he decided to lie.

_ No, Mrs Sloane-Suarez. He died instantly.

She nodded, tears flooding her cheeks, and let go of his arm but took his hand. Kestrel squeezed it gently and murmured:

_ I'm sorry.

She said softly through her tears:

_ Thank you for telling us. Thank you for having brought him back.

Kestrel turned round and exited the house, anguish in his heart. He strode away, unaware of anything around him, his mind in utter disarray. The tears he had fought so hard to keep inside were pouring out of him, and he walked along the street, heading he hadn't got a clue where to. He vaguely heard Sam's and Briggs' voices behind him, but he didn't understand what they were saying and kept moving. He wanted to run away and hide, sheltering his pain and grief, and have the break his mind desperately needed.

When he gathered his bearings, he realized he was facing the ocean. Before his eyes the grey sea was churning along with a strong wind, and he could outline the coasts of small islands not far from the shore. He breathed deeply the salty air, remembering that Alpha used to tell him it was the best air one could inhale to get better, and wiped the last wet streaks out of his face. He didn't know where he was, so he asked a nearby vendor what was the name of the islands.

_ That one on the right is Brickell Key, the vendor explained with a smile. Straight ahead it's Dodge Island, and to your left it's Watson Island. And farther on the right you can distinguish the faint outline of Virginia Key and Fisher Island.

Fisher Island, Kestrel thought while thanking the man and walking along the shore. What a coincidence it was. He took out his smartphone and saw a message waiting to be read. He opened it and read: "Call us when you feel better. Sam." With a huge sigh he dialed his boss' number, and after only one ringing the line was picked up.

_ Kestrel? Are you okay?

_ I'm okay, Sam, he said while rubbing his face. I'm exhausted, though.

_ No wonder, after your race...

_ Race?

Kestrel was lost. He hadn't run, had he? But he realized sweat was trickling down his head and onto his neck, and he felt hot in his thick sweatshirt.

_ You started to run two hundred meters away from the house, Sam explained gently. We tried to follow you, but in Little Havana it's tough following a running man while in a van. And as you were doing a good 24 miles per hour, you quickly lost us.

_ Really? I... I didn't realize...

_ Don't worry, it's okay. Where are you?

_ I'm on the shore, Kestrel said, looking around him. Hang on, there's a sign there... Miami riverwalk. I can see Fisher Island.

_ Fisher Island? Sam repeated with an amused tone. I didn't know I owned an island in Miami. Okay, Kestrel, we're coming. Go back to the road, we'll arrive in a few minutes. What street do you see?

_ I'm in... Biscayne Boulevard.

_ Grim, the GPS... Okay, we roughly know where you are. You've run more than five kilometers in less than ten minutes. Great performance, Kestrel, and all the more if you didn't even know you were running. Stay put, we'll catch you in five or six minutes.

_ Right, Kestrel said with detached emotion. Thanks.

Sam hung up and Kestrel pocketed his phone, looking around him. He could see skyscrapers and malls, company headquarters and the Atlantic Ocean, but he felt so tired and lost that his vision blurred a little. He sat on a nearby bench, closing his eyes and trying to forget Archer's mother's grateful but pained stare. He was so mad at himself to have made Archer's family's lives miserable. But it was done, and nothing he could do would change it. Suddenly a high-pitched female voice asked right in front of him:

_ Sir? Are you okay?

He opened his eyes and saw a young red-haired girl, around eight years old, watching him with curiosity and concern.

_ Yes, I'm okay, he said.

_ Why were your eyes closed then?

_ Because I'm exhausted, he admitted with a small smile.

_ In this case you should go back home and sleep, she said with a shrug. And tomorrow you'll feel better.

He stared at her with astonishment. Children had a knack for speaking true and obvious facts with simple words and clarity. He replied calmly:

_ You know what? I think I'll do exactly that. And tomorrow, things will be better indeed.

_ Sleep tight, she said with a last smile before bouncing away.

He watched her disappear down Biscayne Boulevard, his mind anchored to a simple goal: join his team and be with them. Among them he would find peace and rest.

Four minutes later Briggs parked right in front of him, and he climbed in the back of the van. Grim smiled to him when he sat down next to her and asked him:

_ Better?

_ Yes, he nodded truthfully. But I need a shower and a long night's sleep.

_ We're going back to the Paladin, Sam told him, turning in his seat to face him as Briggs sped along the boulevard. We'll take off in an hour. Next and last stop: Baltimore.

_ What about Fedorova and Jukov? Kestrel asked, knitting his eyebrows.

_ They'll be sentenced to jail, I expect, the Splinter Cell answered seriously. Well, interrogated first by the CIA, then sued.

_ But what if the CIA learns about my past in Voron? Kestrel asked with worry.

_ They know all about it, mate, Briggs told him while driving. Don't worry, you won't be bothered by them.

Kestrel was not convinced but he stayed silent. As a former Voron ops, he had more than once thwarted CIA operations, and he doubted they had wiped his slate clean even if he was American and a Fourth Echelon ops now. Sam was studying him with concern, and asked:

_ Do you have any problem with them?

_ If they knew what I did against them in my previous life, Kestrel shrugged, I'd have a life sentence in an American prison, Sam. But as I was an anonymous ops, hopefully they won't be able to link Kestrel's actions to Mikhail Loskov.

_ Since you've been recruited among a rival agency, Grim intervened serenely, your previous actions are guessed and taken into account, Kestrel. You've got nothing to worry about. The CIA won't do anything against you, and should it happen nevertheless we'll protect you.

_ Absolutely, Sam added, smiling at his ops.

Kestrel nodded at him, feeling supported and a whole part of the team, and peered through the window of the van. Miami was a nice place, he thought, but he wouldn't come back there during his holidays. He had other places in mind, and one in particular.

_ Sam? Grim? Could I ask you something?

_ Yes, of course, Grim said while fixing him.

_ Ask away, Sam said.

_ Could I go back to the chalet in Boise for a few days during our month off?

Sam and Grim exchanged a startled look, but Grim soon nodded with a smile.

_ Of course, Kestrel. Whenever you want.

_ That's very nice of you, he said gratefully.

_ What do you want to do there? Sam asked him curiously.

_ Sit at the waterfall, he answered simply, build another low table, chop wood, run along the dirt path, use the giant cooking stove and allow my mind to mend.

Sam, Grim and Briggs stayed silent, but he knew they understood. Soon they arrived at the airport, and Kestrel climbed aboard the Paladin without a glance back.

He slept during the two hours and a half of flight between Miami and Baltimore, and awoke only when Sam shook his shoulder.

_ Kestrel? We've landed. And I've got something to tell you and the team. Please meet me in the control room.

Puzzled, Kestrel got up and put his boots on, grumbling inwardly. If Sam told him they had a new mission, he would tell him to go fuck off. He really needed a break, he knew his half-mended mind wouldn't withstand any more pressure without exploding.

When he arrived next to the SMI, the team looked briefly at him before focusing on Sam, who cleared his throat and said:

_ I've had a call. We have something to do, but it'll be only for tomorrow.

Kestrel saw him surveying carefully his disgruntled team and continued:

_ President Caldwell has ordered us to protect her and attend her unplanned encounter with the Russian president Terekhov. We are to be at 11 am at the White House, in our official uniform. But right after that, we'll all have two months off.

Kestrel, like his teammates, shot an incredulous but relieved look at his boss, and Sam smiled.

_ A trade of favours, he explained. The president is a little worried, but has accepted my conditions.

_ In this condition, Briggs said, I'm in.

Everybody followed his example, and Kestrel simply nodded. One more day, then he would go and find peace and balance for his tormented conscience.


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

The team had stayed aboard the Paladin for the President's meeting the following day, and Grim had treated them with good old Bostonian hamburgers and fries. And after dinner, Kestrel had retreated in his cabin and fallen asleep instantly, so by the time he awoke the next day, he was well-rested and alert. He took a long blissful shower then dressed in his uniform.

When he entered the dining cabin, he was the first one as usual, and prepared a coffee. He had eaten two bagels when Sam, Grim and Briggs arrived and four before Charlie's arrival. But he felt hunger tightening his stomach, so he ate four more bagels with two mugs of coffee before feeling better. His huge appetite didn't raise any eyebrows anymore, but he himself was a little concerned by it. He'd have to speak about it with Dr Collins when their holidays would be over.

When he had finished eating he asked an unusually serious Sam:

_ So what will we have to do? Is the mission set?

_ Yes, it is, Sam answered him calmly. But I'll tell you all more about it whe we arrive.

_ Why such mystery, Sam? Briggs wondered. Is there something fishy going on?

_ Yes. But as I said, I'll tell you more about it later.

Kestrel and Briggs exchanged a quizzical look, but Sam concentrated on his mug of coffee and bagel, ignoring them. Kestrel shot a glance at Grim, and she blushed a little but buried herself in her tablet computer. One look at Charlie told him the tech was in the dark too, only Sam and Grim knew what was going on. Kestrel, although being full of respect towards his boss and his control director, felt annoyance rising in him. He was weary and fed up with secrets, so he said, his voice shaking with barely controlled anger:

_ Why not now? And why are we in uniforms if we have to protect the president? And what about the guns? How are we supposed to do this mission if we're not prepared for what we'll face? What do you expect from us, Sam?

His voice had risen steadily, and without wanting to he had shouted the last words. But he wasn't going to apologize and defied his boss' stormy stare. A thick silence fell on the table, but Kestrel's eyes were riveted in Sam's ones. Maybe he had been wrong asking all that, but although he trusted blindly the Splinter Cell, he had to know where they would set foot and brace himself. His personal equilibrium was at stake, and to hell with the mysteries.

Sam was holding his gaze with a determined expression and waited long seconds before articulating calmly:

_ I'll tell you more about it later. You'll have to trust me.

Kestrel swept away his mug and the coffee pot in front of him in his rage, sending them crashing on the floor, and stormed out of the room. He tried to keep his furor under control, but it was especially hard. He hit the corridor's walls and went in the training room, slamming the door behind him. He headed straight towards the punching bags and hit them, but tried to control his strength as not to bruise his knuckles too much. The mental effort helped him focus and calm down, so by the time his anger faded he was breathing deeply and his hands were okay.

He sat on the floor, his back to the door, then lay down on his back. He practised sophrology, still breathing deeply and concentrating on the trust he had in Sam. He would do the bloody mission then have his two months off, going to Boise then abroad. All he needed was a little more patience and efforts, he could do it.

The door opened quietly but he heard it and concentrated. He listened to the calm footsteps and recognized Sam's pace. He kept his eyes closed and waited for his boss to speak first. And soon enough he heard Sam's deep rumble:

_ Kestrel, get up, please.

He opened his eyes and saw an expression on Sam's face he wasn't expecting to see: guilt. He rose to his feet and faced his boss, who hung his head.

_ I'm sorry, Kestrel. I never thought I could anger you so much about that mission. And you are right, you need to know. But I wanted to speak of the mission with you alone, and not in front of the whole team. Please forgive me. I did it for good reasons.

Kestrel was surprised but waited for Sam to go on. His boss locked eyes with him and said:

_ Terekhov is escorting someone, and it's totally unofficial. A Voron team will be with him, and we'll meet them with Caldwell in an out-of-the-way reception room of the White House.

Sam paused for a few seconds, then said softly:

_ They're bringing back Alpha's ashes.

Kestrel felt as if the roof was falling on his head, with surprise, blinding pain, relief and guilt swirling in his heart. He staggered a little and Sam held out his arm to steady him.

_ Is it true? Kestrel stammered, not wanting to believe it.

_ Yes, Sam said. Kossiak phoned me last night and passed me Terekhov. And right before I had president Caldwell on the line. Both of them want to bury the hatchet between the US and Russia and smoothe things between Voron and Fourth Echelon. And of course Terekhov is grateful we saved his life, so he did all he could to clear Alpha's memory to repay the favor, thanks to Kossiak. Later today all the channel news will announce that an unknown terrorist blew up the submarine, but Marie Breton never set foot in it and died bravely trying to prevent the suicidal attack. She'll receive the Saint Catherin order in the name of Fourth Echelon, but we won't be mentioned, of course.

Kestrel was bewildered, he couldn't believe his ears. But Sam wasn't lying, he could see it. That meant Alpha was really coming back. He felt so relieved and lonely at the same time that he collapsed into Sam's arms, fighting back the tears. He murmured:

_ I'm sorry, Sam. Thank you so much. I'm sorry.

_ _I_ am sorry, Kestrel. But all I wanted was to tell you all that in private. I'm not a diplomat leader, I'm afraid.

_ Keep it that way, Kestrel said, pulling away from him. If you ever start becoming oil-tongued and politically correct, then you'll be a fool getting old.

_ As usual, you know how to comfort people, Sam grinned maliciously. I'll bear it in mind. But now we should go. Grim told Briggs and Charlie, so you all know why we have a mission today. After the little ceremony at the White House, we'll escort Alpha's remains back to Baltimore, to her restored resting place.

_ Thank you, Sam, Kestrel could only manage.

The Splinter Cell nodded and led the way to the black vans that were waiting for them.

At 10.45 am Kestrel followed Sam and Grim in the small reception room in the back of the White House, Briggs and Charlie behind him. The Voron team was already there, carefully watched over by secret services' agents, and Kestrel recognized Kossiak, Stepankova, Marinov and Jdan. He felt a small smile on his face and followed his boss who went straight to his counterpart, shaking hands.

_ Thank you for what you've done, Igor Dmitrovich, Sam said with emotion. But I believe Kestrel will tell you about it better than me.

He stepped aside, and Kestrel embraced his old friend, murmuring with a trembling voice:

_ Большое спасибо, мой старый друг. _(Thank you so much, my old friend.)_

Kossiak locked eyes with him and replied softly in Russian:

_ It was the least I could do for you, my friend.

Kestrel hugged him, thanking him again without words. Kossiak clapped him gently on the back, then Kestrel shook hands with his old teammates and supervisory agent. He could see they were moved by his emotion, but right now he was mostly concentrated on waiting for Alpha's remains. And at 10.58 Sam and Kossiak ordered their respective teams to form a line of honour in front of the stage.

When the clock struck eleven, the double doors opened and the two presidents, Caldwell and Terekhov, entered side by side, followed by six men, three Marine soldiers and three Russian ones, carrying a coffin on their shoulders. They laid it down on the waiting trolley, and backed to the doors, closing them and lining up in front, facing all the people.

Caldwell and Terekhov approached the coffin and the American president beckoned at the two teams to come closer.

_ It's an unofficial ceremony, and I'm afraid we're in a hurry, she said apologetically. The media are waiting for a press conference. So let's get to the point.

She turned towards Terekhov, and he said seriously:

_ I wanted to thank all of you and your respective teams to have protected me in Saint Petersburg. You know you belong to secret agencies, thus I can't acknoweledge officially your excellent work. But I can do three things, and I will.

He turned to face Kossiak and Stepankova and said:

_ The first one will be to appoint Valentina Ivanovna here as the new director of the SVR. And you, Igor Dmitrovich, will be confirmed as Voron's official commander.

Kestrel clapped politely with the two teams, smiling at the stunned look on Stepankova's face. And Terekhov turned to Sam:

_ The second one is for Fourth Echelon. I award your friend Alpha the Saint Catherin order for outstanding actions to protect peace in Russia's territory, and thus I award it to your team. And of course, we have cleared your friend's memory and are honoured to bring back her remains here, next to the ones who were close to her heart.

Kestrel felt the emotion rising in him and breathed deeply. He heard Grim ask:

_ What about France? Hasn't she got relatives there?

_ She had, Caldwell said, but officially Marie Breton's remains are still aboard the sunken submarine and inaccessible.

Kestrel saw Grim nod approvingly, and his breathing eased. He couldn't have stood seeing unknown people coming and wanting to take her away in France on the pretext that she was family. _He_ was her family, _he_ had been with her. Finally he saw with surprise Terekhov facing him and adding:

_ And the third one is for you, Mikhail Andreyevitch. I know that you served Russia faithfully during more than a decade, and that you've been very badly treated in return. I cannot compensate the wrong that has been done to you, but I can make amends at least. So I can tell you that Russia officially asks for forgiveness. And since you now belong to Fourth Echelon and are American, I can announce you that the Mikhail Andreyevitch Loskov that belonged to Voron died two months ago in Siberia. Your past has been erased from every Russian database as to give you a brand new start in your new country. Only Voron and us will know about you, and we'll leave you in peace.

Kestrel heard the people around him break into aplause, but his mind was numb. He was so stunned he didn't know how to react. But at last he shook himself and said gratefully:

_ Thank you very much, Mister President.

Terekhov held out his hand and he shook it with emotion, then Caldwell spoke.

_ And our country is proud of your two teams having gotten rid of the last Meggido members. That was excellent work. As a reward, Sam Fisher has been granted his wish for Fourth Echelon, and for Voron we present our unofficial but warm thanks.

Kossiak nodded respectfully, then the two presidents left, escorted by the soldiers and half of the secret services' agents. Kestrel turned towards Sam who clapped him on the shoulder.

_ You are free to change your identity if you want, Kestrel. But if you don't, it doesn't matter. You won't be tracked down by Russia anymore.

_ True, Kossiak confirmed. And I can tell you that as long as you don't oppose us directly, Voron will ignore all about your whereabouts.

_ That we can't promise, Igor Dmitrovich, Sam smiled. Only time will tell us that.

_ Indeed, Sam Fisher. Well, we must stay with our president, he'll leave soon. Goodbye and farewell.

_ Goodbye, Sam said calmly.

They shook hands again, then Kossiak turned to face Kestrel. The ops was nearly overwhelmed with gratitude and sorrow, but his old friend seemed to understand. They embraced each other a last time, the Voron team shook his hands, then the Russians left, followed by the rest of the agents. Only Fourth Echelon remained in the room with Alpha's coffin.

Kestrel turned at last towards it and walked next to it. He knew the coffin was almost empty as it contained only a funerary urn with ashes, but he was relieved to see that Russia had honoured her with a splendid ebony coffin gilded with silver handles and a carefully sculpted silver crucifix. He put a hand on it and murmured:

_ Hello, my love. Even in death, you've travelled quite a lot, but it's nearly over. We'll bring you back to your place in Baltimore, and there you'll be able to rest in peace at last.

He knew his team had stayed where they were as to give him some privacy, but when he turned towards them they came right away. The team stood around the coffin in meditative silence for a few minutes, then Kestrel asked them:

_ Shall we go, then?

Sam nodded and he, Briggs and Charlie went around the corners of the coffin. Then the four of them, on Kestrel's orders, lifted it on their shoulder and walked out of the room, Grim in the front as to open the doors. Kestrel was walking calmly, rejoicing inwardly at having the remains of the love of his life back next to him. He needed to know that she would be back in Baltimore's cemetery, in her simple and peaceful grave, to heal completely. And that would soon happen.

A black hearse was waiting for them, and they carefully put the coffin in it. Kestrel noticed two huge wreaths of flowers on the space where the coffin was and saw the ribbons on them. The first read "The USA thank an outstanding fallen agent." and the second "The Russian Federation grateful". He shook his head with a small smile, thinking that something was missing.

They climbed back in the vans, following the hearse, and Kestrel took out his smartphone. He usually never used it to buy online, but this time he had no choice. He ordered a giant bunch of white roses, Alpha's favourites, to be delivered at the cemetery one hour later, then pocketed his phone. Next to him Grim smiled and, sitting in front of him, Sam said:

_ Our Russians friends have done it well enough, don't you think?

_ Yes, Kestrel nodded calmly. That will most certainly help me.

_ So, will you change your name?

He shook his head.

_ No. I'm Kestrel. My official name is Mikhail Loskov, but I won't change either of them. I have a painful past, but it's mine. Now it's up to me to have a better future.

_ That's well said, Kestrel, Grim smiled. Oh, that reminds me...

She searched her pocket and took out a key with a piece of paper around it, handing them to him.

_ The key of the chalet and the code for the alarm.

_ Thank you very much.

_ When will you go there?

_ I was thinking about booking a plane the day after tomorrow, he said. Tomorrow I'll sleep.

_ Just what I want to do, Sam said, stifling a yawn. But maybe this time we'll...

A ringing cut him, and he took out his smartphone. Frowning, he read the number displayed on his screen and said:

_ It's Sarah. Hi, honey!

Kestrel listened with half an ear. He hadn't seen Sam's daughter since a long time but knew she still lived in Baltimore with her fiancé, Ben Woodridge.

_ Yes, we're fine. We're in the States, came back just this morning... Yes, we'll be on holidays, for two months... I know, I can't wait to see you too... What?... Well, if you really want to, Grim and I will drop by and... What?

Sam shot a hesitating look at Kestrel and said to the phone:

_ Honey, it's not that I don't want to, but Kestrel will flay me alive if I ask him to postpone his holidays any longer...


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Kestrel stared at his boss with astonishment. What was going on? Next to him, Grim had an amused expression on her face and bit her lips to conceal her smile, but masked her emotion when Sam looked at her, feigning bewilderment. Sam said:

_ Okay, I'll tell him and the team, but... Oh!... Okay, darling, see you in about two hours, then. I'll give him the phone, hold the line.

Sam turned towards Kestrel and told him, holding out the phone:

_ Sarah wants to ask you something.

Puzzled, Kestrel took the phone and said:

_ Yes?

_ Hi, Kestrel! Sarah said lightly. I know it's a little weird to ask you this, but could you come with my dad and Anna with Briggs and Charlie this afternoon to my place? I really need all of you there.

_ Er... sure.

_ Have you had lunch?

_ Not yet.

_ Okay, I'll fix something, then. See you later, and thanks!

The line went dead, and he gave back the phone to Sam, who pocketed it with a slightly concerned face.

_ I wonder why she wants all of us at her place, he rumbled thoughtfully.

_ She's fixing lunch for us, Kestrel told him calmly, noticing Grim's twitching mouth.

He had a slight suspicion about what was going on, and Grim obviously too, but Sam looked far from guessing the truth. Fathers, he thought with amusement. Sam phoned Briggs in the other car, and he and Charlie agreed to go to Sarah's place after the cemetery.

Soon they reached the outskirts of Baltimore and headed for Mount Olivet cemetery, not far from Shipley Hill where Kestrel had his apartment. And when they parked in front of the gate, Kestrel saw the elderly graveyard keeper waiting for them next to it. He climbed out of the car and walked to him. The old man said with a smile:

_ So you've found her, that's good. I'll watch over her, you can count on me. But give me your name in case something happens again.

_ Okay, he said serenely. I'm Mikhail Loskov.

_ Mi... what?

Kestrel smiled, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the team doing the same. His first name was quite difficult to pronounce for non-Russian people.

_ Michka Loskov.

_ Michka... Loskof, the man wrote carefully on a small notepad. Very well.

He guided them and the hearse to Alpha's grave, and Kestrel and Sam slid the coffin out. Then Briggs and Charlie grabbed the rear and they lifted it to the grave. Grim put the ropes the gravekeeper passed her under the coffin and the four men caught them easily as the coffin was very light. Then they lowered it in the grave, and Sam and Briggs removed the ropes and gave them back while thanking the old man.

Charlie and Grim went to fetch the wreaths and put them on the coffin, and Kestrel's heart filled with love, pain and sorrow. A panting delivery man was staggering towards them, puffing under the giant bunch of roses ordered by Kestrel, and the ops took it from the poor guy's shaking arms. He held it in front of him, roses against his heart as a last gift of love for his beloved, then knelt and laid down the roses on the coffin's upper part, where Alpha's heart would have been. He rose again and whispered:

_ Now you can rest in peace, лювбимая. _(my love)_ I'll come back to see you tomorrow, I have so much to tell you. But now we must go and see Sarah, Sam's daughter.

He shot a surreptitious look behind him and saw that Sam was out of earshot. He added with a small smile:

_ I think Sam will have the surprise of his life.

Then he turned and asked the graveyard keeper, who was waiting five meters away:

_ When will the grave be covered again?

_ As soon as you leave, the old man said seriously. If you come tomorrow you'll see it done.

_ I'll come tomorrow, Kestrel said. Thanks.

He led the way out of the cemetery, the hearse going back to Washington. The drivers of the vans drove the team back to the Paladin, and Kestrel emptied the locker in his cabin, wanting to have everything with him during the two coming months. He took Alpha's photo as well, and his Beretta.

Fifteen minutes later, he was behind the wheel of his GM pickup, following Sam and Grim on the road to Sarah's home. She lived with her boyfriend and fiancé in Cherry Hill, where they owned a house. Kestrel was listening to the radio, his mind clear and relieved. He had done his job, now he would have the time he needed to mentally mend and accept all that had happened.

Soon the four cars parked in the street in front of the white house, and Kestrel climbed down his pickup, looking around him. There wasn't any snow, but the ground was damp and a chilly wind was blowing. He hadn't noticed it at the graveyard, focused as he was on Alpha's remains, but now he hastily strode towards the house behind the team, knowing that a warm living room and a meal would welcome them.

Sarah and Ben greeted the team in the hall and hastily closed the door behind Kestrel, then they suspended their coats on the coat-rack next to the door, and Sarah led them to the living room. A large steaming cooking pot was on the table, and Kestrel's stomach rumbled in hunger. Briggs heard it and smirked:

_ The ogre returns.

_ Hush, pillow lover.

_ Please sit down, Ben was saying, and tuck in before it's cold.

While the team sat down and gulped the Irish stew down, Kestrel studied Sarah's boyfriend, as he was seeing him for the first time. He knew the close-cropped blond man was a former Marine sergeant and now worked for Victor Coste, Sam's old friend, but nothing much more. And he sensed the guy was frank and trustworthy, and very happy. Next to him, Sarah was smiling at him, at her dad and Grim, with a faraway look in her eyes. Kestrel smirked. Yep, he thought, the surprise of his life, and maybe CPR would be needed.

When he laid down his spoon after the usual three helpings, Sarah brought a cheese cake, and soon it was wolfed down too. Ben opened a bottle of champagne and started to fill cups. Sam, who had been quite silent, asked at last to his daughter and almost son-in-law:

_ Are we partying?

_ Actually yes, Sarah said, taking her boyfriend's hand. Dad, Anna, I... I'm pregnant.

Kestrel saw Grim beam at her, but Sam looked frozen in shock, as if a frying pan had hit him on the head and he was about to faint. He smiled at the future parents and said:

_ Congratulations! That's very good news.

Briggs and Charlie echoed him, and Grim rose and hugged Sarah who was crying happily. But Sam still looked paralyzed. At last he stood up and went in front of his daughter, and very carefully took her in his arms. He kissed her on the cheek, hugged her tightly and muttered something in her ear, and she beamed. Then he let her go and shook Ben's hand, saying seriously:

_ Take care of her and of your baby.

_ Well... the young man started, embarrassed.

_ What?

Sam's smile faded, but Sarah put her hand on his arm and said:

_ Actually, Dad, you must say "babies". I'm having twins.

Sam looked thunderstruck again, but this time he quickly recovered. He beamed at the future parents and said:

_ That's twice more good news! Let's toast them!

Everybody picked up a cup of champagne except Kestrel who went for a soda instead, and raised their glasses.

_ To the babies!

Kestrel drank his soda, happy for the cute couple and feeling a soft pain in his heart at the same time. He would never have children of his, as Alpha was dead, but he would watch over Sam's grandchildren, like a remote uncle. Some of his thoughts must have had filtered on his face, because Briggs went next to him and murmured:

_ Are you okay, mate?

_ Yes, thanks, мой друг. _(my friend)_

Briggs clapped him on the back and they listened to Sam asking:

_ When will you give birth?

_ In June, if all goes well, Sarah said brightly. But before that, we must tell you something else, Dad. Please sit down.

Sam, puzzled, resumed his seat and waited, eyebrows furrowed.

_ Is there a problem? The babies...

_ They're all right, Dad, it's not about them.

Sarah and Ben held hands again, and Grim smiled widely, her eyes very bright. Ben inhaled deeply and said:

_ Sarah and I will get married in three weeks. We were waiting for you and your team to have holidays at last. And when you phoned Sarah two days ago, we organized it. It will be very simple, but you're all invited.

Kestrel saw Sam shed crocodile tears as he hugged his daughter once more, kissing her on her forehead. Grim was crying happily too, hugging Ben. Kestrel was smiling and saw Briggs and Charlie grinning widely too. These were wonderful news indeed, but now he had to organize. If he was to be back in Baltimore in three weeks, he'd have to modify his vacation plans. And find a suit.

He just smiled happily, wanting to tell Alpha about all this the following day. How she would have rejoiced at such good news, he thought. And as her radiant smile surfaced in his memory, he grinned widely too.

 **Author's note: Well, this is it, folks! I really enjoyed writing this story, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Please tell me what you think about it! **


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